


Innocent Darkness

by Madriddler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confused Harry, Cute, Dark Harry, Fourth Year, M/M, Second year, Sexuality Crisis, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 01:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17356319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madriddler/pseuds/Madriddler
Summary: Young Harry Potter feels different from everyone around him. Instead of girls, he kept staring at boys, instead of being normal he learns that he can talk to snakes. Feeling Isolated, Harry turns to what he believes to be an innocent diary as his only solace. Things change, however, when the diary starts to write back. Falling for the Tom in the Diary, Harry finds himself down a spiral of Dark Arts and Dark Magic. Will he lose his way, or will he find somewhere to belong?





	1. Otherness

Innocent Darkness

Ch.1

Otherness

 _The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened. Enemies of the Heir Beware._ That single phrase danced in Harry’s mind endlessly since he, Ron, and Hermione found the message written on the wall with Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat, hanging petrified from a torch near it. He didn’t know why however he just knew that it linked, somehow, to the voice in the wall that only he was able to hear. Especially now as he and his friends walked out of History of Magic where, under the pressure of the students, Professor Binns told them about the Chamber of Secrets.

 _A place that can only be open by Slytherin’s true heir…_ he thought, his mind reeling back to last year and his Sorting. He never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it was yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he’d placed the hat on his head a year before: _You can be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that…_

Harry couldn’t help but feel doubts and a sense of otherness from his fellow Gryffindors the more he thought about it. _This is nonsense,_ he thought, _I’m a Gryffindor! I belong here!_ And yet… the strange sense of otherness lingered. Too many strange things happening. The voice that only he can hear, his ability to speak to snakes that only, according to Ron, Slytherin can do, and now the Chamber of Secrets opening…

As he walked through the corridors, he received strange, scared looks from the other students. _They probably think I’m the Heir of Slytherin,_ he thought to himself. At least, that is what he thinks Colin Creevey was trying to say before he was taken away from the tide of students bearing him toward the Great Hall, disappearing with a squeaky, “See you, Harry!”

“Do you think there’s a Chamber of Secrets?” Ron asked Hermione.

“I don’t know,” she said, frowning. “Dumbledore couldn’t cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be—well—human.”

Harry wasn’t paying attention. He was too lost in his own head and feeling of otherness to really contribute. Following Ron and Hermione, he moved automatically as the two talked Now taking their way back to Gryffindor Tower, it was then that Harry noticed something weird.

It was about Ron. Harry couldn’t help but notice that Ron’s lips had a small twitch every time he said something he liked. Like each word caused him to smile. And every now and again Ron would say something, and, for whatever reason, it effected Harry in a strange way. He found his cheeks going a subtle red whenever Ron said his name. He didn’t know why this was happening. It didn’t happen yesterday, or the day before. Yet for some reason, out of the blue, Harry just started notice these small details about Ron as the three walked back to Gryffindor Tower.

“So Harry what do you think?” Ron asked.

“Huh?”

“About who the Heir of Slytherin is,” Hermione said.

“Oh right,” Harry said. He frowned in thought, “I’m sorry but I can’t think of who would want to frighten all the muggle-borns out of Hogwarts.”

“Let’s think,” Ron said in mock puzzlement. “Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?”

“If you’re talking about Malfoy—” Hermione said.

“Of course I am!” Ron said. “You heard him—‘You’ll be next, Mudbloods!’—come on, you’ve only got to look at his foul rat face to know it’s him—”

Harry envisioned Malfoy’s face. True, he could see how Ron could describe him as ‘rat face’ however the more Harry thought, the more he thought about Draco’s nose. It wasn’t particularly ratty, but button-like, cute even. _Why am I thinking of Malfoy as cute?_ Harry thought. A disgusting confusion flooded Harry.

“Look at his family,” he said rather viciously, “The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin: he’s always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin’s descendants. His father’s definitely evil enough.”

“They could’ve had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!” Ron said. “Handing it down, father to son. …”

 _Where did this come from?_ Harry frowned as Hermione talked. He never spoke so vicious or cruelly about anyone, not even Malfoy, even though the boy deserves it. After all, for a nanosecond Harry thought of Malfoy’s nose as cute… why did he do that though? Needing to get out of his own confusing thoughts, Harry forced himself to pay attention to Ron and Hermione before they notice he wasn’t listening.

“…It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He’s probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him.”

“This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me,” Ron said frowning, “what if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?”

“It only lasts for a while,” Hermione said.

“I like the idea,” Harry said, drawing their attention. “This Polyjuice stuff? I like it,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

“Good,” Hermione said. “But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it’s bound to be I the Restricted Section of the library.”

“How are we going to convince a teacher to give us permission to get us that book then?” Harry frowned.

“We can say that we’re interested in the theory…” Hermione said.

“Oh come on! None of the teachers are going to fall for that! They have to be really thick,” Ron said.

“Lockhart is thick,” Harry said automatically. Hermione nodded in agreement and Ron looked between them.

“Ohhh,” he said coming to realization a couple moments later. He grinned widely which caused Harry to blush again, “that could work,” Ron said, as though he made up the idea himself. Harry couldn’t help but stare at Ron the strange feeling again filling him. The strange feeling caused Harry to smile though he quickly hid it.

 

The next day Harry paid particular attention to Draco Malfoy. The first thing he noticed was that he did not have a rat face. In fact, much to the disgust inside him, Draco Malfoy looked rather pretty. His hair was blonde and slick back, revealing a rather sizable forehead that Harry thought Draco might grow into. His eyes were light, almost silver-looking, and when they weren’t glaring at Harry, the Gryffindor saw that the silver eyes were capable of shining happily as he talked with two Slytherins Harry couldn’t remember the names of. _They must be his true friends,_ Harry thought to himself. _Not like Crabbe and Goyle._ His nose was bunny-like, cute and small just as Harry pictured the night before, and his lips were a faint pink, nice and a little plump—wait. The disgust took over Harry. Why was he noticing these things? He shouldn’t notice how nice Draco Malfoy looked! He hated him!

Groaning, Harry forced himself to just not look at Malfoy, or anyone, during the day Unfortunately that did not stop Professor Lockhart from picking him to help demonstrate reenactments of particularly dramatic bits of his books. This time he was acting like a werewolf, or what Harry suspected was Professor Lockhart’s idea of a werewolf. If he hadn’t had a good reason to keep in Lockhart’s graces, he would have refused.

“Nice loud howl Harry—exactly—and then, if you’ll believe it, I pounced—like this—slammed him to the floor—thus—with one hand, I managed to hold him down—with my other, I put my wand to his throat—I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm—he let out a piteous moan—go on, Harry—higher than that—good—the fur vanished—the fangs shrank—and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective—and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks.”

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet. Harry rubbed his chest in slight pain. “Homework—compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of _Magical Me_ to the author of the best one!”

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he returned to Ron and Hermione as the rest of the class left. They waited until everyone was gone then Hermione approached Lockhart while Harry still nursed his chest. He kept away from the two as Hermione talked with Professor Lockhart, scowling slightly. “Wish he would choose someone else, this time it hurts!” he muttered to Ron.

“Gotta admit it was a bit funny to watch,” Ron whispered. “And you howl good.”

“I-I do?” Harry asked, his cheeks reddening for some reason.

“Yeah, Ron shrugged, not noticing the change in his friend.

“So Harry,” Professor Lockhart said, getting the boys’ attention while Hermione slipped a piece of signed parchment into her bag, “tomorrow’s the first Quidditch match of the season, eh? I was a Seeker too, you know. I was asked to try for the National Squad but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don’t hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players…”

 _Wow, I feel so honored,_ Harry thought sarcastically. He made an indistinctive noise in his throat and then hurried off after Ron and Hermione. “I can’t believe you got it—did he even look at it?” He asked Hermione.

“Of course, not he’s a brainless git—”

“He’s not a brainless git,” Hermione said shrilly than they ran off to the library. Harry was focused on keeping up with Ron and his long legs that he didn’t notice something protruding from the floor in front of him until it was too late. “Ahh!”

His body slammed on the floor as he groaned to look at what he tripped over. “Harry!” Hermione yelled, her and Ron stopping to look at him.

“I’m fine!” Harry said, feeling totally embarrassed. “Tripped over something,” he said as he got into a sitting position on the floor to look over his shoulder to see what he tripped over.

“A book,” Hermione said, and Harry nodded. Behind him, laying undisturbed, was a yellow-paged book with a black leathered cover. Curious, Harry reached for the book and leafed through it. The pages looked old yet still durable but there was nothing written on them. “It’s empty,” he said.

“Looks like a diary,” Hermione said, look in the cover, the owner might put their name in it.

Harry checked and saw that Hermione was right. The faded year on the cover told him that it was fifty years old. On the first page he could make out “T.M. Riddle” in smudged ink. On the back of the cover, Harry saw the printed name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London.

“An old diary,” Harry said. “A very old diary.”

“He must have never written in it,” Hermione said. “T.M. Riddle.”

“Let me see,” Ron said, moving between them. Harry got a whiff of Ron’s smell and again his cheeks blushed for some reason. “T.M. Riddle… I know that name. T.M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago.”

“How on earth do you know that?” Harry asked.

“Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention,” Ron said resentfully. “That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you’d wiped slime off a name for an hour, you’d remember it, too.”

“Strange though,” Hermione frowned. “Why would his diary be here?”

“I don’t know… but since he never wrote in it, I don’t suppose he would miss it much,” Harry said, standing up with the book in hand. “Might be useful,” he said.

“For what? Writing secret poetry?” Ron suggested in a mocking tone.

“No, for writing down how much of an insufferable git my best friend is,” Harry said with a joking smile.

“Ouch, I’m not that insufferable,” Ron muttered.

Hermione looked at the two, “Anyway, I want to get to the library before we run into any other teachers… or trip over any other books.” Ron and Harry agreed and the three sped off towards the library once more.

Harry kept a tight squeeze on T.M. Riddle’s diary, smiling to himself as he held it close to him. _At least now I have a place to put my strange feelings,_ he thought to himself. _Might be helpful to actually see them._ Harry was too busy running to keep up with Ron that he didn’t notice a soft warmth that came from the book as he hugged it to his chest, as though it could hear Harry’s thoughts and was anxious to hear his problems.


	2. First Entries

Ch. 2

First Entries

Later that night, after Harry, Ron, and Hermione gotten the recipe and made a commitment to the thief they need to commit in order to make the Polyjuice Potion, Harry found himself alone in his bed surrounded by his oddness. In front of him was the diary, its over opened and the first page staring blankly at him. He had a bottle of ink and quill next to him, both resting on his Potions textbook so if he accidently spills the bottle it won’t fall on his bed, and now he was just staring at the page, wondering what to write.

He was nervous for multiple reasons, the potion is going to take a month to make, his first Quidditch match against the Slytherins were coming up and the entire team has the new Nimbus Two-Thousand and One brooms, all curtesy of Mr. Malfoy. He thought he should write about that. Or maybe about this strange sense of otherness he felt from everyone else. About how he felt isolated from the boys as the more he noticed about them. Or he could write about the voice in the wall that nobody else could hear. Or maybe he can write about the Heir of Slytherin, and what was happening in Hogwarts… his mind spun as Harry tried to figure out what to write.

 _I should stick to the basics,_ Harry thought to himself. Picking up the quill he dipped it in the ink and began to write.

 _My name is Harry Potter, I am twelve years old and am a Gryffindor in Hogwarts._ He paused to think of his next question when something bizarre happened. The ink started to disappear… no, it was more like the diary was drinking in the ink, absorbing it into the pages. The page fully clean once more, Harry stared in bewilderment as words bleed back onto the page, but they were words that he did not write himself.

_“Hello Harry Potter, how have you come to possess my diary?”_

Harry almost screamed. The book just talked back to him. The words stayed there, as if waiting for a response. Harry’s hand shook. He didn’t know why he was thinking of replying however he did. Dipping his quill in the ink once more, he wrote: _I tripped over the diary in the corridor on the way to the library. Who are you?_

_“I am Tom Riddle, and this is my diary. I’m sad to hear that my diary was left in a random corridor, but I am happy to see that it was picked up by a responsible wizard.”_

Harry frowned. He didn’t understand this at all. He was still feeling shocked that the diary was talking back to him. He didn’t know how he was able to do it, however his hand moved, and he wrote back, _How are you able to do this?_

_“I’ve recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink in here. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read.”_

_What do you mean?_ Harry scrawled, the ink blotting the page in his confusion.

_“I mean this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up… but that can be discussed later, for I believe this is not the reason of why you’ve picked up my diary.”_

Harry frowned, he was right… it was right, the diary was right. _This is a bit confusing,_ he thought to himself. Hesitating, he looked at the diary and thought about how he should answer. He thought that the diary, or should he refer to it at Tom Riddle, would write back impatient for an answer. But he… or it wasn’t. Instead he… or it waited until Harry figured out what he wanted to say. Dipping the quill in the ink again Harry wrote slowly, hesitantly, as though he had to drag the words out of him. _You’re right. I wanted a place to go through my confusion._

_“Your confusion? Perhaps I will be able to help Harry, tell me.”_

Harry didn’t know why he didn’t hesitate, his arm moved automatically towards the ink bottle and he quickly wrote back to Tom.

 _I feel strange,_ he scrawled, _weird, like I’m different from everyone._

_“How so?”_

Harry frowned. It felt too weird for him. He wanted a place to put down his thoughts privately. To have the book talk back to him, even though he was the only one who can read back Tom Riddle’s replies, made him feel that his thoughts weren’t private, which was what he wanted. Hesitating, as though he did not want to disappoint the diary, Harry dipped his quill into the ink once more and wrote.

_Actually… I’m not sure if I want to tell you yet Tom. I hoped that this diary would be for private use, and even though the words disappear, you replying makes me feel like I’m not private._

Tom Riddle’s reply came instantly as soon as Harry’s words were absorbed.

_“I see. In that case I will be quiet until you want to talk with me, and the dairy will be yours to use as a normal diary. Would that be suitable?_

Harry found that he was smiling. _Thank you,_ he wrote. _That is what I need._

 _“Then I will talk with you the next time you need me Harry,”_ Tom Riddle’s words said before fading into nothing.

Harry dipped his quill one last time in the ink and thought about what he would write. Deciding to start over again, he set to work.

 _My name is Harry Potter. I am twelve years old and a Gryffindor in Hogwarts. I feel strange, like I’m different from everyone else._ He paused. And waited. But the words stayed there. Smiling, figuring that Tom Riddle was keeping to his promise, Harry continued. _There are many things that makes me feel different from the others. But I want to write about the most recent one. For some reason I keep noticing things about boys! Like how Ron smiles or smells—and it makes my cheeks red! Also, he called Draco Malfoy a rat face, but he doesn’t have a rat face. Though it makes my stomach feel icky to say, I think he looks rather nice! I don’t know why I feel this way or notice these things. I’m scared to talk about this to people, especially not Ron!_

_Maybe Oliver Wood will know about this? He is my Quidditch Captain and older than me. Maybe he knows about this stuff? It would be nice to know why I’m having these thoughts. It would be one less mystery. God knows that there are enough mysteries around my life._

Harry waited. The text stayed. Satisfied, the small boy sat in his bed, suppressing a yawn as he thought of what else he could write. Feeling a little guilty for some strange reason, Harry dipped his quill one last time into the small bottle of ink laying on his potions’ book and wrote one more sentence. _One of those secrets being the voice that only I can hear in the wall._

Biting his lower lip Harry reread what he wrote. Satisfied, he capped his ink bottle and cleaned his quill tip. Closing the diary, Harry finally gave an exhausted yawn, his thoughts turning to Oliver Wood and the questions he wanted to ask the older boy the following day.

 

The dairy in his bookbag, Harry caught Oliver Wood during the lunch break the next day. “Wood!” Harry called out, running to the Quidditch Captain. Harry stopped when the sixth-year boy turned to him and Harry got a smell of something oaky yet nice. “Harry, what is it? You getting nervous for Saturday?” Wood asked.

“Uhh… no,” Harry said, his mind momentarily flooded by Wood’s scent. “I uhh… wanted to talk to you… about something,” he tried to say, his cheeks going red.”

“Me?” Wood frowned.

“Yeah well… you’re my captain and all and uhh… this is too embarrassing to talk to, you know, anyone else…” Harry said, biting his lower lip.

“Blimey, they’re starting younger and younger,” Oliver Wood said. “Alright Harry, let’s find somewhere a bit more private to talk about this.”

“Thank you,” Harry smiled, glad that Oliver Wood understood what he wanted to talk about without Harry having to say it explicitly. Wood waved goodbye to his friends and led Harry out of the Great Hall. They walked outside to the courtyard, which was practically empty as all the castle’s inhabitants were inside eating lunch, and Oliver Wood chose a bench in the far side of the courtyard to go to. “I’m glad that you came to me about this Harry,” Wood said. “I mean, I know this is usually something you go to your dad about but… yeah sorry that was tactless,” Oliver Wood said. “So… what’s up?”

“I feel strange,” Harry admitted. “Like I’m changing but no one else around me is.”

“Well Harry, that’s simply part of growing up,” Oliver Wood shrugged. “Your body’s changing, and you’ll be noticing weird things with it. Hair growing in places you wouldn’t think of, a strange smell from your armpits that you’re going to need deodorant for, and you will need to put it on daily. The girls don’t like a smelling man,” Wood smirked at Harry.

“Girls?” Harry repeated confused.

“Yeah, aren’t they great?” Oliver Wood grinned. “Sure you notice things about them, yeah?”

Harry stared at him confused. “I mean… Hermione is pretty nice, and she’s a good friend of mine,” he said. “She lets Ron and me copy her History of Magic notes.”

“Yes well… I’m sure you notice some other things about girls,” Oliver Wood said suggestively. “Maybe about the older girls?”

“In my first year they gave me candy, I liked that,” Harry said. “And some of their perfume smelled nice but that’s not what I mean by feeling strange.”

“Then what do you mean?” Wood asked.

“Well I just started noticing the way guys smell, you know, and how they move and stuff. The way Ron grins when he’s happy, or pouts when he’s late for food,” Harry said. “And all of that makes my cheeks blush. I don’t know why I notice these things about boys, is this part of puberty too?”

Harry looked up at Wood hopefully as the older teen stared down at Harry. At that moment Harry noticed the casual short distance between them and looked down at their legs for a moment before looking up at Wood who seemed to have noticed it too, however he looked weird about it. Wood etched away from Harry as he said awkwardly, “Well… I see… you only notice this stuff on boys Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Is this normal with puberty?”

Oliver Wood stood up suddenly, “I have to get back to lunch,” Wood said, “I will see you at match Saturday.” And with that Wood left without another word. Harry frowned, being left more confused than ever as he sat in the courtyard alone. He didn’t know how to react. Harry’s mouth opened hanging as he stared at the place Wood was. Why didn’t he answer? Why did Wood’s mood change so suddenly? His thoughts in an array of confusion, Harry did the only thing that made sense to him, he took out his diary and held it tight as he ran inside, looking for a private place to write by himself. On the way, he ran pass Ginny who looked frantic, but he had no time to ask she wanted help as he did not want to lose the thoughts he was thinking and feelings he was feeling. They had to be recorded.

He found a nearby broom closet. Keeping the door slightly open for light, Harry made a make-shift seat and desk with an overturned bucket and a box. He placed his diary on it and pulled out an ink and quill as he began to write.

_I was going to write later, but I am left more confused then ever. I wanted to talk with Oliver Wood, my Quidditch Captain, about my weirdness since he’s the oldest person I know in Hogwarts… well the teachers are older but there’s no way I’ll go to them. Anyway, I talked with Oliver and he said I’m going through puberty, whatever that is, though I don’t think I am. He said that I’m supposed to be noticing things about girls? Yet I’m not noticing anything about them, they just stay the same to me. I mean, Hermione’s nice and my best friend, the others are nice as well and I get along with them, but I don’t think that’s what Oliver is talking about. In fact, when I told him that I notice thing about boys he just ran away! I have no idea what any of this means but I hope this doesn’t cause the anything strange during the Quidditch match on Saturday. Still, I wish I knew what all this means._

_Tom please don’t reply yet. Thank you._

Satisfied, Harry closed his diary and placed it in his bag along with his capped ink bottle and quill. He walked out and made his way back to the Great Hall to finish lunch when he ran into Ginny again, who was on her hands and knees looking under the suits of armor in the corridor. “Ginny, what’s the matter?”

“Oh! Harry,” Ginny squeaked, standing up suddenly. She looked a little frantic, as though she was searching for something very important. “I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said. He looked around the corridor and frowned, “Are you looking for something?”

“What? No-no I’m not… I have to go Harry, bye!” Ginny said and she sped off away from Harry. Harry was left confused as ever as he watched Ginny run away. Frowning, he continued his way to the Great Hall, somehow feeling odder and more different from everyone around him than before.


	3. Bludgers and Entries

Ch. 3

Bludgers and Entries

Saturday came quickly, and Harry found himself preparing for the Quidditch match. Wood has been strangely distant from Harry ever since their talk, which only made Harry feel worse about his otherness. He was nervous as well, mainly of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, he didn’t want the boy to blame him, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. Harry wrote in his dairy daily until then, and Tom kept his promise of not responding. Harry went down to breakfast early, where he found the rest of the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much.

As eleven o’clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry good luck as he entered the locker room. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood’s usual pre-match pep talk. Harry sat a bit away from Wood, just so the older boy wouldn’t feel strange by him.

“Slytherin has better brooms than us, no point denying it. But we’ve got better people on our brooms. We’ve trained harder than they have, we’ve been flying in all weathers and we’re going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their teams.”

 _I mean… he’s pretty,_ Harry thought, _but I guess he can be a slime too._

“Potter, it’ll be down to you,” Wood said in a strangely professional tone, “to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying. Don’t mess up Potter.”

“So, no pressure, Harry,” Fred said, winking at him. Harry smiled.

As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them. It seemed like the whole school came to cheer them on, eager to see Slytherin defeated. For a moment Harry wondered about the hatred against one House but quickly put it aside as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game began.

Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

“All right, there, Scarhead?” Malfoy yelled, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom. _Ignore looks, focus on the game,_ Harry mentally reminded himself but that was all the time he had as the next second a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him, he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed. Harry began to speed away when he saw the Bludger do something very odd, it moved like a boomerang, turning back towards Harry aiming straight at his head!

Harry dodged quickly to avoid it, yet it again turned on the spot as though magnetically attracted to Harry and pelted after him once more. Harry was forced to fly off at full speed. Harry zoomed across the stadium, the Bludger chasing after him. George Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as George swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

“Gotacha!” George cheered, but he was wrong. Once again, the Bludger stopped and turned making a beeline for Harry.

 _It’s jinxed,_ Harry realized. Making a split second decision, Harry yelled at George, “Leave it to me!” and he sped off, the Bludger chasing only him instead of doing it’s duty, which was to knock as many players as possible off their brooms. Harry ducked dramatically, his broom falling towards the ground with the Bludger still hot on his trail. He pulled up just before he slammed into the ground, hoping that the Bludger would. He looked over his shoulder to see that the rouge Bludger only grazed the ground as it turned towards Harry again, causing the boy to become very frustrated.

Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open for the Snitch. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was very heavy and couldn’t change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium.

A whistling in Harry’s ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped I the opposite direction.

“Practicing for the ballet, Potter?” Malfoy yelled as Harry was forced to do a twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trialing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at Malfoy with hatred—he saw it! The Golden Snitch! It was hovering inches above Malfoy’s left ear—and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn’t seen it. Feeling alright that for once his otherness helped him see the Snitch, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the Snitch.

WHAM

He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashing into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. _Damn it,_ the young boy cursed. He forced his arm to hug close to his body and he decided to speed towards Malfoy anyway, the Bludger already turning to get another hit on Harry.

Pain overwhelmed the boy as one thought ran through his mind, _get to Malfoy_. The laughing Slytherin noticed only too late that Harry was speeding towards him and he dove to avoid the Gryffindor, but that was all the time Harry needed as he let go of his broom with his one good hand and made a grab for the Snitch, feeling it’s cold metal in his grasp.

 _I got it,_ Harry mentally celebrated, but he didn’t have much time to celebrate as the Bludger continued to chase even after the game was over. Smashing into his broom, Harry fell into a nosedive towards the ground. Groggy from the pain and hits, Harry had enough time to pull his broom up for him to roll onto the ground, hugging his broken arm close as he was flung from his broom. Holding his good hand up high so everyone could see the Snitch, he heard a good deal of whistling and shouting from the distance. _Oh thank god it’s over,_ Harry thought, failing to get up. His arm was hanging at a very odd angle which made it impossible for him to even attempt to push himself up.

A crowd was forming around him, and he saw a glitter of teeth. “No, not you,” he groaned. “Anyone but you…”

“Doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Lockhart said loudly to the anxious crowd od Gryffindors pressing around them. “Not to worry, Harry. I’m about to fix your arm.”

“No!” Harry shouted. “I’ll keep it like this before I let you near it.”

He tried sitting up again but the pain was too terrible. He heard a familiar clicking noise nearby. “I don’t want a picture of this, Colin,” he said loudly.

“Lie back Harry,” Lockhart said soothingly.

“I want to go to the Hospital Wing,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“Nonsense Harry, this will be much quicker,” Lockhart grinned. He twirled his wand and a second later pointed it at Harry’s arm.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Harry’s shoulder and spread all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was being deflated. He didn’t dare look at what Lockhart done. He had shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fears were realized as the people above him gasped and Colin Creevey began clicking away at his camera. His arm didn’t hurt anymore—nor did it feel remotely like an arm.

“Ah,” Lockhart said. “Yes well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken—”

“Broken?” Hagrid’s deep voice interrupted. “Broken? Harry has no bones left!”

Harry opened his eyes as Ron and Hermione pushed through to help him up. Looking at his arm for the first time, feeling incredibly lopsided, he felt as though he was about to pass out. Instead of his arm there was what looked like a rubber flesh-colored glove. Lockhart didn’t mend his bones, he removed them!

Using all strength he had, Harry stopped to look at Lockhart. “I hate you,” he said simply and Ron and Hermione carried him to the Hospital Wing.

 

Harry asked Hermione to get his diary while Ron helped him change into a hospital gown. “I just don’t feel comfortable knowing someone can read it while I’m not there,” was his reasoning. He had to stay the night to let his bones regrow with the help of a potion Madam Pomfrey gave him called _Skele-Gro_ which burned in Harry’s mouth as he drank it.

“It was a bit funny though, “Ron said, “the way you told Lockhart you hate him. Did you see the look on his face? Was like you stole a binkie from a baby!”

“That’s not the expression Ron,” Hermione said walking back with Harry’s diary. “And you can’t really hate him Harry, anyone can make a mistake…”

“This is more than a simple mistake, Hermione,” Harry said, taking the diary with his good hand. “My arm has no bones! It doesn’t do anything!”

“We won though,” Ron said, a grin breaking across his face that made Harry’s cheeks blush. “That was some catch you made, Malfoy’s face… he looked ready to kill…”

“I want to know how he fixed that Bludger,” Hermione said.

“You think it was him?” Harry asked, Ron and Hermione nodded, “well that’s just one more thing to ask him when we take the Polyjuice Potion, “ he said as he sank into his pillows. “I hope it tastes better than this stuff…”

“If it has bits of Slytherins, probably not,” Ron said jokingly. Madam Pomfrey shortly kicked Ron and Hermione out, leaving Harry to himself.

Fully glad that his non-wand arm was broken, Harry opened his diary and thought for a moment. Figuring that Tom would naturally be worried about him, Harry rummaged around a nearby nightstand for something to write with, finding an old quill and ink, and did an awkward full body shuffle so that the diary was laid open on his legs, he was sitting upright so he could write, and his useless arm was still in bed with the ink bottle close by for usage.

 _Tom, you can respond to this one because I don’t want you to worry about me,_ Harry began. _Today was my Quidditch match against the Slytherins. I wasn’t distracted by my odd feelings for long, however something happened. I am in the hospital wing overnight because I have to regrow my bones in my left arm._

He watched as the ink was absorbed by the pages and Tom’s response bleed through.

_“And what exactly happened to your bones?”_

_A Bludger was jinxed by someone and kept chasing me. Ron and Hermione thinks it was Malfoy. It broke my arm but I still got the Snitch. However I fell off my broom because of it and instead of getting me to the Hospital Wing, Professor Lockhart got to me first. I tried to stop him from “helping” but couldn’t so while Colin Creevey was taking pictures with his camera (even though I told him NOT to) Lockhart tried to fix my bones but instead removed them!_

_“The more I hear of this man the more I think he is an incompetent moron,”_ Tom replied. _“I am guessing that you’ve been given Skele-Gro? Then you have nothing to worry about Harry. However I am concern about this Bludger and who jinxed it. But you should not worry about that for now. Sleep Harry, we will talk later._

Feeling somewhat reassured, Harry closed the book after writing _Goodnight_ and placed the diary under his pillow.

Hours and hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain. His arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, he thought that was what woke him. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.

“Get off!” he said loudly, then, “Dobby!”

The house-elf’s goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry though the darkness. A single tear was running down his long pointed nose.

“Harry Potter came back to school,” he whispered miserably. “Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn’t you heed Dobby? Why didn’t Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?”

Harry frowned as he heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby away. “How did you know?” He asked, remembering the beginning of the school year where the passageway to Hogwarts was somehow blocked and he and Ron had to use the Weasley’s car to fly to Hogwarts. Dobby’s lip trembled and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicious. “It was you!” he said slowly. “You stopped the barrier from letting us through!”

“Indeed, yes, sir,” Dobby said, nodding his head vigorously. “Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward—”

“You nearly got me and Ron expelled!” Harry said hotly, “you better go before my bones grow back and I strangle you!”

“Dobby is used to death threats, sir, Dobby gets them five times a day from his master,” Dobby said and he blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase that he wears. “Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought that his Bludger would be enough to make—”

“Your Bludger? That was your Bludger?” Harry demanded. “You made that Bludger try and kill me!”

“Never kill you, sir, no never kill you!” Dobby wants to save Harry Potter’s life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only wanted harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!”

“And I suppose that just resolves everything,” Harry said angrily. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why you want me sent home in pieces?”

“Ah if Harry Potter only knew!” Dobby groaned, more tears falling off his nose. “If only Harry Potter knew what dangers where going to happen in Hogwarts! Now that the Chamber of Secrets is open—”

“So there is a Chamber of Secrets,” Harry said. “Then there’s no way I can go home Dobby! What do you know about it? Tell me!”

But before Dobby could say anything, he froze as though he heard something, then disappeared with a loud crack. The next moment Harry knew, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. _Another attack?_ Harry thought a Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, holding the feet. Together they heaved it onto a bed. Madam Pomfrey came running out a second later as Harry did his best to pretend he was asleep.

“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey whispered.

“Another attack,” Dumbledore said. “Minerva found him on the stairs.”

“He had a bunch of grapes with him,” Professor McGonagall said, “We think he was trying to sneak up to visit Potter.”

Harry’s stomach fell. Slowly, carefully, he raised himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight illuminated its face.

It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide, and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

“Do you think he took a photo of his attacker?” Professor McGonagall asked. The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin’s rigid grip. He opened the back of the camera.

“Good gracious!” Madam Pomfrey cried. A jet of steam hissed out of the camera. Harry, three beds away, caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.

“Melted,” Professor Pomfrey said wonderingly. “All melted…”

“What does this mean, Albus?” Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

“It means, “Dumbledore said, “that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again.”

“But Albus… surely… who?”

“The question is not who,” Dumbledore said, his eyes on Colin. “The question is how…”

Harry waited until the three adults were away before opening his dairy and telling Tom everything that just happened. Then he waited for Tom’s reply, which came slowly, thoughtfully, as though the diary was putting an effort into every single word Tom said.

_“I see… so the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been open again. That is very interesting… as I might have told you before Harry, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before while I was a student of Hogwarts. That was a long time ago, fifty years I believe. Just a little more than when I placed my memories into this diary.”_

_Then you must know who have done it,_ Harry wrote quickly, _or how I can stop him!_

_“Indeed… I can show you however I fear you might not believe me… so for now, I would like to give you an option.”_

_An option?_

_“Indeed Harry. I went to Hogwarts, I’ve stored all my memories in this diary, everything I have learned from my classes… and outside my classes. Permit me to say this Harry, but I feel you have a rather… courageous personality. Quick to help your friends. I hope that you do not need it, however I am willing to part with you my wisdom. So you can protect those you care about.”_ Tom wrote. Harry read the lines a couple times, his cheeks reddening for some reason as he thought about the proposal. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to know some spells that’ll protect him and his friends, Harry figured.

Taking the quill and ink again, Harry quickly wrote back, _I would love that Tom, that would be great._

 _“Excellent Harry,”_ Tom replied. _“We shall begin soon. Not tonight, however, tonight, just sleep and let the potion do it’s work. Keep our diary under your pillow like always Harry, it will make it easier for us to communicate later on when we start. Is there anything else you wish to tell me before you sleep?”_

Harry had a painful, thoughtful expression on his face. His hand shaking for some reason he did not know, Harry wrote one final question. _Do you know exactly what’s wrong with me Tom? What my otherness is?_

He waited with bated breath for Tom’s response. When it came, Harry didn’t know how to respond or react to it as he read, _“I know what you are going through as I went through it too, young Harry. I could tell you exactly however it would be better Harry if you discover it for yourself. … However I will tell you one thing. What is happening, this otherness you are feeling, it is normal. You are not a freak. Now sleep and remember to put our diary underneath you._

“Thank you, Tom,” Harry whispered to the diary. He smiled to himself, feeling reassured for the first time. Forgetting the pain in his arm, Harry closed the diary gently and pushed his body lower on the pillows, putting the dairy under his body. His eyes feeling heavy, he fell asleep immediately, his good hand never leaving the diary underneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a fan of this chapter mainly because of how much I had to borrow from the book. Still, I hope you've enjoyed it.


	4. Lessons

Ch. 4

Lessons

Harry’s arm felt stiff but regrown the next morning. He left the hospital wing after eating and quickly made his way to Gryffindor Tower to tell Ron and Hermione about everything he saw. They were not there. Spotting Ginny, however, Harry ran up to her, “Ginny,” he said. The girl made a sort of shrieking sound and jumped into the air, turning to face Harry. She looked a little pale and startled. “Have you seen Ron and Hermione?” he asked.

“I…I no Harry,” Ginny said. For a moment, Harry thought that Ginny was acting strange, however he did not have time to worry about it as he wanted to tell Ron and Hermione what happened last night. Running out of the common room, Harry decided to run around the castle looking for Ron and Hermione, having little idea of where they could be.

He was on the second floor when he turned a corner into someone, both of them falling. “Ouch!” Harry winced. He looked up to see a boy around his age getting to feet. “You alright?” the boy asked, offering Harry a hand. “Didn’t think I would bump into you Potter.”

Harry stared at the boy, his cheeks blushing again. He was, in a word, handsome. Dark skinned, and short hair, the Slytherin standing in front of Harry smiled nicely down at Harry as he offered his hand to help. Harry took it and the boy pulled Harry up, the Gryffindor stumbling to land on the boy’s chest.

“Heh, more graceful on a broom I take it,” the boy chuckled.

“I uhh sorry,” Harry blushed, his face feeling incredibly hot. He stared at the Slytherin, taking a moment to remember his name. “Zabini… why are you here?” he asked, taking a defensive stance against the Slytherin, jumping away suddenly. A wave and anger crashed upon him as he thought how he blushed, and still is blushing, at the boy.

“Relax Potter,” Zabini said, “can’t a person take a walk? Besides, you were the one who ran into me… twice I might add.”

“I—that’s because you bumped into me,” Harry said accusingly. The Slytherin chuckled and gave Harry a smile. “Stop that!” he said, “Makes me feel weird.”

“Ohh, and how weird do you feel Potter?” Zabini asked, continuing to smile. Harry blushed finding himself lost for words. Zabini chuckled at this and shrugged, “Starting puberty huh? Don’t worry I started mine too!”

“I—I don’t…understand,” Harry stuttered out.

“It’s alright, you’ll start soon enough,” Blaise smiled. “But I bet you notice strange things, right? Like how you’re nothing different things from different people?”

“I… actually yeah,” Harry said hesitantly. “I notice things about boys…”

“Me too,” Blaise grinned.

“But… that’s not normal, right?” Harry asked.

“It is, just that stupid people don’t like it to be,” Blaise said. “And whoever told you it isn’t is a very stupid person, Harry Potter.”

“I…” Harry frowned. He was feeling a little frustrated at how easy it was to lose words. So instead he turned his frustration into anger as he glared at the Slytherin. “I don’t want advice from a Slytherin like you Zabini!” he said. “Malfoy probably told you to confuse and make fun of me!”

Zabini laughed. However, it wasn’t a cruel laugh. He wouldn’t stop smiling at Harry. “Draco didn’t send me, I was just walking,” he said, “I’m honest. Look, I can tell you’re confused and, to be honest, I’m confused too… so how about we try to tackle it together?” He held out his hand for Harry, looking optimistic.

Harry stared at the hand hesitantly. “I don’t know…” he said honestly.

Blaise looked a little disappointed but hid it with a smile. “Alright then,” he said. “Think about it Harry. The offer is always open.” He gave Harry a final look and walked pass the boy, continuing on his way. Harry stood where they were for a few minutes, lost in thoughts. He didn’t know how to handle Zabini and his offer. Was it real? Was it legitimate? Or was it a long plan that will end in Harry’s hurt and humiliation? He just didn’t know. He wished he could have had advice on this matter, someone to talk to. Without thinking, Harry’s hand went for Tom’s Dairy. He stopped only when the diary was held out in front of him.

“We’re already talking with each other,” Harry said to himself out loud, “and with him talking… it would be more help than any regular diary…” Making his mind up, Harry rushed to the nearest bench to sit down with the diary. His ink and quill next to him, Harry opened the dairy on his lap and began writing.

_Tom?_

_“Yes, Harry?”_

_Something just happened and I didn’t know who else to turn to. I ran into someone and he made me feel these strange feelings again but—he’s a Slytherin! He offered to help because he feels the otherness too and together we can figure it out but I don’t know how he can trust him! He’s a Slytherin! And he’s friends with Draco Malfoy!!_

Harry’s was amazed that his chicken-scratch writing seemed slightly legible as the words slowly sank into the page. He hoped that Tom would be able to understand them as he started tapping his foot in nervousness. Tom’s reply came in the same cool calm writing that Harry was quickly getting used to.

_“I am a little ashamed Harry that you judge a person based on what House he is in. You trust me no? Then will it surprise you to hear that I was in Slytherin when I went to Hogwarts. He offered to help, you should consider it, if not outright take it. I wish I had someone to talk to about my feelings when I was your age. This could be your chance. Forgetting Malfoy, however I believe it might be good if you and he try to make amends, you should see where this opportunity with Zabini would give. Who knows Harry, you might like the results.”_

Harry couldn’t help but frown. He felt as though his world was shaking a little. Tom? In Slytherin? But so far, he has been so helpful! Even when he agreed to be quiet. “I… I…” Harry found himself stuttering aloud. His hand moving fast he wrote, _You’re a Slytherin!? There’s no way! You’re not a prick!_

_“Harry, now I am disappointed. Yes I am a Slytherin. The House you are in does not matter. You should forget Zabini’s and mine House and consider his proposition! Meanwhile Harry, you will write two apology letters. One to Zabini and one to me.”_

_Okay,_ Harry wrote back sadly, feeling a heavy feeling for getting Tom’s disappointment. _I understand Tom… I’m sorry, I’ll think about Zabini’s offer and maybe accept it._

 _“Good boy, Harry.”_ Harry smiled. Something weird inside him lifted a little. He was happy that Tom called him a good boy. Especially since Tom just said he was disappointed in Harry. He didn’t want to feel that feeling again, of having Tom disappointed in him. Closing the diary he held it close to his chest for a long moment, conflicting on what to do. He wanted to find Ron and Hermione, at least tell them of what happened last night. Get that done with, then he can think about Zabini and the diary later. He continued his exploration of the castle but to no avail, Ron and Hermione couldn’t be found anywhere.

He was on the second floor walking pass where Filch’s cat was first found where he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and turned to see Ron and Hermione. “Harry, there you are! We’ve been looking all over,” Ron said.

“Where were you two?” Harry frowned.

“Come on,” Hermione said. She grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him down the corridor towards a girl’s bathroom.

“Hermione! That’s the girls’ restroom,” Harry protested.

“Relax, nobody uses this one because of Moaning Myrtle,” Hermione said opening the door and pulling Harry in, Ron following. The bathroom was empty as Hermione said, she led Harry to a stall and opened it, revealing a black potions cauldron sitting on a closed toilet, bubbling away. “We started the Polyjuice Potion after overhearing Professor McGonagall talking about Colin…”

“Ohh, yeah,” Harry frowned, “that’s what I wanted to tell you two about…and one more thing.” Harry told them about what happened last night with Dobby and Colin being brought in.

“The Chamber has been open before?” Hermione asked.

“That settles it,” Ron said in a triumphant voice. “Lucius Malfoy must’ve opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he’d told Draco how to do it. It’s obvious!”

Harry didn’t believe so. _Tom told me that the Chamber was open when he went to school and that was fifty years ago,_ he thought to himself. _Mr. Malfoy doesn’t look that old…_ Keeping his thought to himself, Harry said, “Then we need to make the potion and find out ourselves.”

“Four weeks,” Hermione said. “We have everything we needed… Sorry by the way, we had to borrow your Cloak.” She looked sheepish as she pulled out Harry’s Invisibility Cloak which Harry received as an anonymous Christmas present last year. “Some of the ingredients we needed were locked in Professor Snape’s private stores…”

“It was mental! Snape was in the room grading papers, I thought he was going to catch us like five times,” Ron said.

“However he didn’t luckily,” Hermione said. “Now all that’s left is adding the ingredients at the right time and… it should be ready by Christmas break.”

“Brilliant,” Harry smiled.

 

It took Harry a week to make up his mind with the apology. Since then he wrote in Tom’s diary, but Tom never answered, making the boy feel sadden. Believing that Tom was truly disappointed in him, that feeling that that was the worst feeling in the world, Harry sat in the corner of the library and wrote out two apology letters. One for Zabini, and the other for Tom. Zabini’s read:

_Zabini,_

_I’m sorry for my attitude last week. I should not have judged or doubted you because you are a Slytherin. I don’t know why I’m feeling apart from everyone, like I have an otherness that separates them, but I think you feel the same way too. I think we can help each other figure out these feelings. I hope you’ll forgive me and accept this. I just want to have a name of this otherness, it’s starting to scare me. Is it really part of puberty?_

_Harry_

While Tom’s went:

_Tom_

_I’m so sorry for my behavior. I hate that you are feeling disappointed in me. It makes me feel awful. I’ve written an apology letter to Zabini like you said. I’ve thought about it and I’m going to accept his offer. I miss you Tom, the words won’t bleed in and I hate seeing my crying to talk to you… I don’t know why I feel this way Tom, I just want us to be friends again._

_Harry_

It was only after he finished the letter that Harry realized that he was an idiot. Instead of writing the letter in the diary, he wrote it on a separate sheet of paper. Groaning, Harry pulled out the diary and opened it up, skipping pass the pages of his tearful pleas for Tom to return. He placed the letter on the righthand page so he can copy it onto the left. When he reached for this quill and ink, Harry stopped when he saw the letter and diary slightly glowing. It was subtle yet obvious to Harry. He stared as the dairy slowly absorbed the letter, words and paper both, until there was only the clean unmarked page of the diary. Then words began to appear, making Harry’s heart soar for some odd reason as he quickly dropped the quill to read them.

_“Thank you, Harry. You are forgiven.”_

Six words. Yet those six words lifted Harry’s soul and heart so much that he grinned widely at the diary. Hugging the dairy close to him, he could feel that heaviness inside him disappear as he jumped off his chair, putting the diary close to his body in his pocket and picking up Zabini’s letter. He cleaned up the table he was sitting at and made his way out of the library, still grinning at Tom’s words. He had to find Zabini.

He knew that the Slytherin’s Common Room was in the dungeons as he always saw Slytherins going up and down the staircase leading to it in the entrance hall. Figuring that would be the best place to start, Harry headed in that direction.

The dungeons were normally a cold dark place with twisting corridors and false ends and beginnings that left the other students of Hogwarts confused on where to go. It was almost as if, as long as the student didn’t have Potions class, the dungeons did not want to deal with them unless they belonged in Slytherin. The same held true today as Harry walked along the walls of the dungeons, desperately lost within minutes. The dungeons were particularly cold during the winter months, and Harry was already shivering as the torches on the walls, though lit, did not seem to provide significant warmth.

 _Come on,_ Harry thought to himself, _how hard is it to find a Slytherin? The dungeon should be crawling with them!_ He continued wandering around the corridors, every wall looked the same, every torch, turn, crossroads—it felt as though Harry was going in circles. Getting impatient and annoyed, Harry crossed his arms and huffed. “Fine you stupid dungeon!” he called out, “See if I care.” He turned around and stopped to see a Slytherin about his age standing behind him looking dreadfully annoyed. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Tracey Davis, Potter,” the girl said annoyed, “we’re in the same class!”

“I don’t remember you,” Harry said rudely, “move out of my way.”

“Hey! Don’t act to me like that!” Davis yelled as Harry walked past her. Harry ignored her but stopped when he heard Zabini’s voice saying, “Shut up Davis, I can hear you in the common room—oh hello Harry Potter.”

Harry turned around to see Zabini smiling at him as he walked pass Davis. “Surprised to see you here Harry, you’re looking for something?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Harry blushed, “you… I have a letter umm… I’m sorry for my behavior,” Harry said apologetically as he handed Blaise the letter. Zabini read it in front of Harry as the boy stood blushing mad. When Zabini was done, he rolled the letter up and held out his hand, “Hello Harry,” he smiled, “my name is Blaise. Want to work on our odd feelings together?”

“I would love that Blaise,” Harry said shaking Blaise’s hand.

“Great, and don’t worry Harry, you’ve done no harm. But right now, you should get out of the dungeon, it hates it when students walk around,” Blaise smiled. “We’ll talk later. Have a good night.”

“You too Blaise,” Harry said, now smiling like Blaise. The rest of the day and night that smile never faded. When asked about it, Harry just hummed and mentioned making a new friend. That night Professor McGonagall came along as usual collecting the names of those who will be staying in Hogwarts during the holiday. Harry signed his name, along with Ron and Hermione. Tired and anxious about the potion’s progress, they all agreed to go to bed for the night.

He went to sleep as always, the dairy under his pillow with his hand holding it as he thoughts turned to his new deal with Blaise and strange hopes that the Slytherin would stay over the holidays too so this friendship of theirs can grow.

He was in a room. A strange room. It was all Slytherin colors, emerald and silver, with windows that allowed a summer sun to shine through. The room was lightly, there was a pair of comfortable armchairs, facing each other. There was a low table between them and an empty fireplace. Along the walls were moving pictures, much more complex than the pictures Harry saw at Hogwarts, however, they were more like moving memories of a person he never saw. Looking around, Harry saw that there was a full length mirror in the room opposite a portrait of a very handsome teenage boy. Harry walked towards it and gasped.

He wasn’t wearing his pajamas, or any clothes he recognized. In fact, he wore clothes that fitted him normally! A short sleeve green shirt and sliver shorts, Harry started to guess at a theme in the room. He stared at his reflection. He looked like a normal kid… yet something was off as he stared at the scar on his forehead.

“That would be where Lord Voldemort tried to kill you,” a voice said. Harry jumped and turned around. The handsome boy from the portrait was now standing in front of him wearing a white button down shirt witch his sleeves rolled up and slacks. “Hello Harry, it’s a pleasure to finally talk with you.”

Harry stared at the handsome boy, lost for words. The teenager had slightly long black hair that was neat and organized with dark brown eyes that seemed to entrance anyone who stared at them, strong features in the face and a slight build. If Harry would know better, he would describe the teenager of being the boy of every girl and boy’s dream, however as he stared at the teen, he couldn’t help but just gawp at him. “To…Tom?” he asked.

“Correct,” Tom smiled. “I’m so happy that we can finally talk like this… you are much shorter than I thought you would be Harry, it’s cute.” Harry blushed at that. Tom chuckled softly and lifted Harry’s head gently, holding his chin delicately as he examined the scar on Harry’s head. “To think that Lord Voldemort would meet his end in such a way… and leave nothing but a scar on the infant.”

“Tom… Tom, where are we?” Harry asked.

“A room of my own design,” Tom said. “I waited until we were… close enough to bring you here. I’ve decided that it will stay in the color of Slytherins, and you will wear the House’s colors until you fully get over your prejudices against the House. It will be much easier, for both of us Harry, to teach you in this room as oppose through the written word. Here we can talk and listen to the other… I can guide you through the steps personally and fix any mistakes you have. But more importantly Harry, here we will be together, alone, to grow closer and hopefully allow you to figure out your otherness.”

Harry gave a soft smile. His eyes started to feel watery as happy tears began to well. “Tom… thank you,” was all he could breathe.

Tom gave the boy a smile and took a couple steps from him before turning to sit on one of the armchairs. Harry followed and sat on the one opposite him. “Now then,” Tom said, tapping the table a couple times for tomes and books to appear, “my sweet Harry, let us begin your lessons.”


	5. Darkly Developments

Ch. 5

Darkly Developments

“What am I going to learn?” Harry asked. He was sitting in the chair opposite of Tom, swinging his legs as they did not touch the ground. Tom smiled at this and leaned back in his own chair.

“Many things, Harry,” Tom said simply, “Spells, obviously, life advice… whatever interests me to be honest. It has been half a century, Harry, since I’ve had someone to talk to, and I am happy to finally have that chance again. These tomes,” he said, indicating to the books on the table, “is a beginning. Choose.”

Harry looked down at the table and picked up the books one by one, reading the titles. The first one was a black book, heavy in Harry’s hand. He frowned, “This is a Dark Arts book,” he said, reading the title.

“Indeed, it is,” Tom nodded. “I will never lie to you Harry, my boy, in my time I have studied the dark arts. Or at least I’ve done a little research by the time I’ve made my diary. You do not need to follow in my footsteps down this path, however I wanted to give you the option, show my colors and give you no lies.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. “I’m… I’m not sure how to feel about this Tom.”

“Do you trust me any less?” Tom asked.

“No.”

“Then we shall put it aside for now,” Tom said, taking the book gently from Harry’s hands and placing it back on the table. Harry nodded and resumed looking, finally picking up a book titled _Dueling Beginners._ He gave it to Tom who looked at it with an approving nod. “This will be useful I feel,” Tom said, “Do you know what dueling is?”

“Ron mentioned it once last year,” Harry said. “He challenged Malfoy to a duel but he never shown… that was the night we found Fluffy—a three headed dog who was standing on top of a trapdoor.”

“Trapdoor? And where does this trapdoor lead?” Tom asked, looking interested.

“These series or rooms that were all guarding the Philosopher’s Stone,” Harry said. “Last year… it’s a long story Tom—”

“We have the time tonight to tell it,” Tom smiled. “I want to know more about you Harry, so please, share away. Your lessons with these tomes can always begin later.”

Harry took this as an encouragement and began to go on a long-winded tale of his experiences last year, starting with his life with the Dursleys, meeting Hagrid, and finally confronting Voldemort and Quirrell in front of the Mirror of Erised. When he was done, Harry noticed that Tom had a sort of strange look in his eyes as he stared at the young boy.

“Tom?” he asked quizzingly, “are you okay?”

“Hmm, oh yes,” Tom said. “Before you found my diary Harry, it belonged to one other… a person who has only possessed it for a short while. She has told me a little about you, that was how I knew you’ve had contact with Lord Voldemort, however, to hear the details now… it is extraordinary. You really are a powerful wizard Harry, and I want nothing more than to harness and nurture that power within you.”

Harry had a warm feeling inside him as Tom talked. Smiling shyly, his cheeks glowing with blush, he looked at Tom admiringly and said, “I… I don’t know what to say Tom, thank you.”

“You don’t need to say anything, my boy,” Tom said. He stood up and picked up the other three books while leaving the book on dueling on the table. He walked towards the bookshelf and placed the books on them when Harry asked, “Who was she? The girl who told you about me.”

Tom stopped and turned slightly to look at Harry. “Does it matter?” he asked. “She was boring, just a common girl with really no potential. Unlike you Harry. Besides, any influence I had on her, advice to give and whatnot, is gone by now, withered away into nothingness, growing weaker while my hold on you grows stronger. That is why we can talk like this now, my boy.”

“Because of your hold on me?” Harry asked.

“Exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

Tom thought for a moment. “It its complicated, Harry, to put it simply… it means that we have grown close enough through the short time we have been with each other, that I can borrow some of your magic to create this room. Every time you’ve slept, I’ve been borrowing your power slowly, taking only a little from the infinite pool you have inside you. Normally, this would weaken a person… it had weaken the girl when I’ve tried the same, however you, my sweet, dear Harry, are different.”

Harry nodded and had a look of intense concentration as he slowly wrapped his mind around what Tom said. “So… you’re borrowing my magic… so we can talk with each other,” he said, “but why do you need to do that?”

“I’m weak,” Tom lamented, “the years alone have left me with only enough power to barely survive.”

“Did you use to have a body?” Harry asked.

“I did, yes, before I’ve locked my memories in here,” Tom said.

“But why did you do that?” Harry asked.

“Because…” Tom stopped and turned to Harry fully. “That is something I will tell you when you’re older,” he said. “You are too young now to understand.”

Harry frowned, he didn’t like being treated like a child, but he also didn’t want to see Tom angry or sad either. So instead he just nodded silently, trusting that Tom would explain later.

“Well,” Tom said, “that would seem to be enough for tonight. We both shall need our rest.” He moved to Harry and knelt down, doing something that surprised Harry. Holding his head gently, Tom placed a familial kiss on Harry’s forehead, akin to a mother or father would do to their child. “Goodnight Harry,” he said softly, “we’ll speak soon.” And with that, darkness took over and Harry slept.

 

A week later found Harry in the Great Hall at eight o’clock at night. The regular long four tables have vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. There was a dueling club going on, the first meeting of the school year, and most of the school was in the room with their wands in hands and excited looks on their faces.

Harry was excited too, until he saw who was teaching the dueling club. Professor Lockhart, dressed in robs of deep plum, walked onto the stage, accompanied by Professor Snape dressed in his usual black. “Gather round, everyone, gather round! Now, can everybody see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

“Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this dueling club to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done countless times before. Let me introduce you, my assistant, Professor Snape. He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Before we begin, I don’t want any of you to worry, you’ll still have your potions master when I’m through with him.” He chuckled while Snape just glared at him, looking completely unamused, his upper lip curling.

Lockhart and Snape turned to each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. They raised their wands like swords in front of them.

“As you see, we are holding our wands in the acceptable duel positions. On the count of three we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill of course.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Harry muttered, watching Snape baring his teeth.

“One—two—three—”

“Expelliarmus!” Snape cried, swinging his wand above his head as Lockhart did the same. There was a burst of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered.

“Yes, well, there you have it!” Lockhart said getting unsteadily to his feet. “That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I’ve lost my wand, thank you Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but it was very obvious that you would cast that—”

“Hello Harry.” Harry turned around to see Blaise standing behind him. “How have you been? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

“Zabini—I mean Blaise, hello,” Harry said, correcting himself.

“Do you think this guys actually knows what he’s doing, or is he just here to make a fool of himself?” Blaise chuckled, pointing to Professor Lockhart. Harry giggled and shook his head, “I don’t know if he does know anything,” he said, causing Blaise to laugh.

“Enough demonstrations!” Lockhart said loudly and cheerfully. Harry turned to Lockhart for a moment and turned back to see Blaise walked back to the Slytherins, “Talk with you after Harry!” he smiled.

“Yeah,” Harry said, getting the warm feeling again. A warm feeling that turned icy as soon as Professor Snape paired him with Malfoy. They faced each other and bowed at Professor Lockhart’s commands.

“Wands at the ready!” Professor Lockhart said. “When I count to three you cast your charms to disarm only! One… two… three—”

Harry swung his arm but Malfoy started at “two”: his spell hit Harry so hard he felt as though he’d been hit over the head with a saucepan. He stumbled, but nothing else happened. Wasting no time, Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy and shouted, “ _Rictusempra!”_

A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled over, wheezing.

“I said disarm only!” Professor Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm. Snape raised his wand and shouted, “ _Finite Incantatem!_ ” And a greenish smoke filled the room as the spells’ effects stopped.

“Perhaps,” Snape said as the crowd stopped, “it would be beneficial to teach them how to block unfriendly spells.”

“Yes, and excellent idea!” Professor Lockhart said, ignoring Snape’s icy droll, or perhaps not recognizing it. “Harry, Malfoy, if you would.” He gestured for the two to move to the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away. Lockhart went to Harry and said, “Now Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this.” He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, “Whoops—my wand is a little overexcited—”

 _Or you’re just overly-awful,_ Harry thought to himself. Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too.

“Right!” Lockhart said jollily, his job apparently done. “Three—two—one—go!”

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, “ _Serpensortia!”_

The end of Malfoy’s wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

“Don’t move, Potter,” Snape said lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, “I’ll get rid of it…”

“Allow me!” Lockhart shouted. He twirled his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake flew ten feet into the air instead of vanishing and landed to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Harry wasn’t sure what made him do it. He wasn’t even aware of deciding to do it. All he knew was that his legs started moving forward and he shouted stupidly at the snake, “Leave him alone!” And miraculously—inexplicably—the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Harry. Harry felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the snake wouldn’t attack anyone now, though how he knew it, he couldn’t explain.

He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see him looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful—but certainly not angry and scared.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out the hall.

Snape stepped forward and waved his wand. The snake vanished in a puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was staring at Harry in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn’t like it. He was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering all around the walls. Then he felt a tugging on the back of his robes.

“Come on,” Ron’s voice breathed in his ear. “Move—come on—”

Ron steered him out of the hall, Hermione hurrying alongside them. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on.

The two were steering Harry towards the Gryffindor common room when Blaise’s voice caught them. “Harry!”

Ron and Hermione stopped and looked back. “Go away Zabini,” Ron said threateningly.

“No… no, he’s a friend,” Harry said, still confused. “What’s going on?”

“You’re a Parselmouth, Harry. Why didn’t you tell us?” Ron said a little angrily.

“I’m a what?”

“A Parselmouth Harry,” Blaise said. “It means you can talk with snakes.”

“I know I can,” Harry said. “I mean I’ve only done it once before. I accidently set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once—long story—but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of let it free by accident—this was before I knew I was a wizard—”

“A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?” Ron repeated faintly.

“So?” Harry said. “I bet loads of people can do it.”

“No they can’t,” Blaise said. “It is an exceptionally rare gift.”

“This is so bad,” Ron muttered.

“Why is it bad?” Harry demanded. “What’s wrong with everyone? Listen, if I didn’t tell that snake to not attack Justin—”

“Oh so that’s what you were doing?”

“What do you mean? You were there—you heard me!”

“I heard you speaking Parseltongue,” Ron said. “Snake language! Who knows what you could have been saying—you could have been saying anything! No wonder Justin panicked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something—it was creepy, you know…”

“I still don’t see what’s the problem,” Harry said. “What’s wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off Justin’s head? What does it matter how I did it as long as Justin didn’t have to join the Headless Hunt!”

“It matters, Harry,” Blaise said, “because being able to talk with snakes was Salazar Slytherin’s trait, it was what he was famous for. It’s why my House’s symbol is a serpent.”

Harry’s mouth fell open.

“Exactly! And now the whole school’s going to think you’re his great-great-great-great grandson or something—”

But I’m not,” Harry said with a panic before he could explain.

“You’ll find that hard to prove,” Hermione said. “He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we knew, you could be.”

“Well,” Blaise said, “personally I think the idea is ridiculous.”

“And who asked you?” Ron demanded, stepping towards Blaise. “Why are you even here in the first place! For all we know you and Malfoy—”

“Stop… please Ron,” Harry said. “Blaise is nothing like Malfoy.”

“He’s a Slytherin!” Ron shouted. “If you don’t’ want people to think you’re the Heir of Slytherin or something, you can’t talk with him!”

“Gee thanks,” Blaise muttered. “I feel so welcomed. I’m going back Harry, I just wanted to check to see you’re fine.”

“I—I am Blaise,” Harry said softly. “At least… I don’t know.”

Blaise smiled, “We’ll talk more later,” he promised and left without a word. For the rest of the trip to the Gryffindor Tower Ron was muttering to himself.

 

Harry didn’t know how he was able to sleep, however he once again found himself in Tom’s room, both of them still wearing the same clothes as last time. “You did not talk to me today,” Tom said, “I thought something was the matter.”

Harry nodded and told Tom what happened in the Dueling Club. Tom looked absolutely shocked, then had a thoughtful look on his face. “Interesting,” he said. “Honestly I did not put you as a Parselmouth…. It’s true, it is only a trait in Slytherin’s line, his solid line that can speak it.”

“Is that… is that really true, Tom?” Harry asked.

“Of course it is,” Tom said gently, smiling, “for you see Harry, I’m also a Parselmouth.”

Harry gasped. Tom chuckled at Harry’s expression. “I can see you’re surprised,” he said.

“I—yeah,” Harry nodded. Tom moved to his armchair and patted the arm and his lap with one hand, “It will be a long story,” he said.

Like a son going to his father, Harry automatically got up and moved to sit on Tom’s lap. He did not know why, but whenever he was near Tom the heat came, filling him with the strange feeling he felt when he was around Ron or Blaise. The heat made him happy as his cheeks blushed and fingers tingled. Tom took his hands in one and the tingling sensation increased dramatically. His other hand went to Harry’s back, to support the boy, and Harry’s heat only increased. “I grew up in an orphanage,” Tom began. “Like you Harry, I’ve never knew my parents. Personally at least, you knew their names and had pictures to match their names to faces… however I’ve had nothing. Just my name. So in Hogwarts, after I’ve been sorted into Slytherin, I’ve spent my time searching for clues, any clues, on my family. On who I am. Most of it I was alone for… until him. He helped me with the final stretch, and I found out that I was the Heir of Slytherin. His blood ran in my veins, which is why I could speak to snakes.

“During this time, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened as it is now, however it was not me, Harry. Naturally, with knowledge of my lineage, I’ve sought the Chamber myself and found it, along with the pretender who was using the monster that lied beneath to attack students. I was awarded for my efforts; however, I’ve never told anyone about my ability. I figured that it would be best to keep that secret to myself, which proved to be the right decision.”

“Wait…” Harry said softly, “does that mean that you and I could—”

“No Harry,” Tom chuckled, “We are not related. However the thought is a nice one, would explain how quickly we are to trusting the other. A distant familial bond…”

“I trust you Tom, because you are my friend,” Harry blushed. Tom smiled and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you, Harry,” he said. “I honestly do not know how or why you have the ability to speak to snakes, however while the others might look at you in suspicion, I think we should look at it another way.”

“And what way is that Tom?” Harry asked.

“Simple Harry,” Tom said. “It’s just another similarity between us, another way that connects you and me.”

Feeling the heat reach his head, Harry couldn’t help but smile at that. He was anxious about the ability just moments ago but, hearing Tom talk about it, it made the boy feel safe, relieved. So much so that, without thinking, he rested his head on Tom’s body. “I like that,” he said softly. “I don’t know why but… when I’m with you Tom, that otherness fills me but… I feel happy about it. Does that makes sense?”

“It does Harry,” Tom said, “and it will to you, once you’ve sorted out your feelings.”

Harry nodded and relaxed onto Tom, his eyes slipping closed as Tom held him on his lap protectively, both silent but needing no reason or want to break their scene of tranquility.


	6. Harry's Slight Turn

Ch. 6

Harry’s Slight Turn

Harry felt odd waking up. His head pounded slightly from a headache and his blankets felt heavier than usual. In his blurry vision, he looked down at his bed as he forced himself in a sitting position. The normal scarlet blur that greets him in the morning, his comforter, was now mixed with white splotches that Harry has never seen before. They also felt a little wet. Getting his glasses, Harry stared in shock to see that his comforter was covered in wet spots and feathers! In a panic, Harry reached down and sighed when he felt his pants were dry, only to frown when he saw that his arms too were covered in what looked like chicken feathers. “What happened?” Harry muttered. He looked around frantically and saw that only his bed was covered in water and feathers. “Ron… Ron!” he called out to his friend.

“Uh-what—Harry?” Ron said, jumping up out of his bed. He turned to Harry and said, “Harry—why are you covered in feathers?”

“I don’t know! I woke up like this!” Harry said. “Why aren’t any of you?”

Ron stared at Harry for a moment before breaking into a snickering laugh. “It’s not funny!” Harry pouted. “I’m serious!”

“Relax Harry,” Ron grinned trough his laughter. “It was probably just Fred and George doing this.”

“Why would they do this?” Harry demanded, gesturing to his bed and clothes. “Everything is soaked! It’s like it rained over my bed! Oh no!” He gasped and quickly turned to reach under his pillow, pulling out his diary. “Oh thank god,” he breathed. The diary was completely dry, not a drop of water on it.

“You’re really attached to that thing, aren’t you?” Ron asked. Harry blushed.

“It helps keep my thoughts straight,” Harry said, “but you can’t read it!”

“What kind of friend would I be if I wanted to read your journal?” Ron asked, grinning. “Don’t worry about the feathers and stuff, I’m sure they’ll get cleaned up, and they’re easy to pluck off in a bath.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “Why would Fred and George do this though?” he asked. He opened his covers and grimaced at all the wet spots he saw. His shoes and socks were on the floor, so he bent to pick them up. “Gross! Even my socks and shoes are all wet and icky!”

“That’s a bit too far,” Ron said, “Do you have another pair?”

“Of shoes? No, I only have these and Dudley’s old pair that’s basically just tatters,” Harry said. He dropped his socks back on the floor, which landed with a soft squishy plop. Harry stared at his shoes at a lost what to do when Ron rummaged his nightstand for his wand. “I have an idea!” he grinned. Harry stared at Ron’s wand. At the beginning of the year, it was broken in half by the Whomping Willow and now it was barely held together by Spello-tape.

“Sorry Ron… but how about you tell me your idea and I’ll do it,” Harry said. “No offense… but I rather not have my only pair of shoes destroyed.”

“Oh uhh… okay,” Ron said, looking a little insulted but that went away quickly, “good idea, wouldn’t want to leave you barefooted. I was going to use that fire charm to heat them up and dry them.”

“Like putting it on a radiator!” Harry gasped.

Ron stared at Harry in confusion, cocking his head sideways slightly. “What’s a ray-de-a-tor?” he asked.

“It’s a heating system that uses water that brings heat to each room with a radiator…” Harry started to explain but he stopped as he saw that Ron didn’t understand at all. “Um never mind,” he said, “but I think it’ll work.”

Ron grinned at that, “Brilliant!”

Harry and Ron got out of their beds and Harry carried his shoes into the bathroom. He looked around and said, “We need something that’ll keep the fire contained and yet have it reach my shoes.”

“Why not put the fire in a sink and just drop your shoes in it?” Ron asked. “That way it’ll reach all areas inside and out!” Harry stared at Ron, and was too busy blushing at his smile and the warm feeling inside him to argue. He and Ron moved to the nearest sink and Harry dropped his wet shoes in it. Taking out his wand, he kept the tip inside the sink as he took a moment to remember the spell. “Oh right… _Incendio!_ ”

A small flame shot out of Harry’s wand and, true to Ron’s words, curved around inside the sink’s bowl, filling it with an intense heat that magically didn’t climb up Harry’s wand. The boys watched as Harry’s shoes disappeared in the flame, a loud crackling sound coming from the sink as the fire did it’s work. The crackling and snapping sound continued, becoming violent at times as every now and again the flame jumped up from the sink, threatening to spill out. Harry and Ron watched in a strange fascination at the flames, Harry stopping the spell and putting his wand in his front pocket. A burning smell started to come from the sink, it’s smoke rising to the air but Harry and Ron couldn’t help but continue staring.

“What in the devil’s name—Potter! Weasley!” Professor McGonagall’s voice snapped Harry and Ron out of their strange trance. She rushed to the sink quickly, wand in hand, “ _Aquamenti!”_ she shouted, a burst of water coming from her wand, hitting the sink and dousing the fire instantly. Steam exploded into the air, covering the sink momentarily and hiding the results of Harry and Ron’s experiments. However, before they could see the results, Professor McGonagall said in a strict tone, “Boys, would you care to explain why you have both decided to recklessly start a fire in the boy’s bathroom, knowing that it can become dangerously out of control?”

Harry and Ron looked at each other sheepishly. “It’s not our fault,” Harry tried to say. “I woke up and someone pranked me by placing chicken feathers and water all over my bed and shoes… they’re the only pair I own Professor, so we thought to dry them out…”

“By burning them to a crisp? Potter I am surprised at both your idiocy in this moment!” Professor McGonagall said. She walked over to the sink and looked inside. “Burnt,” she said, “What else were you expecting it to be?” She shook her head and waved her wand. The shoes repaired themselves, looking good as new in the now burnt and charred sink. “Both of you are lucky that it was Mr. Potter who performed the spell instead of you, Mr. Weasley. Potter, you may take your shoes out.”

Harry quickly moved to remove his shoes from the sink. “Now, for punishment… twenty points from Gryffindor, each. And both of you will be spending two weeks’ detention.”

“But Professor, Christmas break is coming up!” Ron protested.

“Then you will serve your detention both before and after the Christmas break, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said. “As for you Harry, if you have the funds, I suggest buying another pair of school shoes for replacement needs.”

“Yes, Professor McGonagall,” Harry said, looking down at the floor sheepishly. Professor McGonagall made a disappointed noise and turned to leave. As soon as she left, Ron and Harry looked at each other cautiously before grinning.

“Well it worked,” Ron said.

“It did,” Harry nodded, and without thinking he found his arms wrapped around Ron’s body in a hug, his heat and Ron’s mixing together to make Harry’s cheeks a bright scarlet as he felt his insides aflame happily. He looked up, expecting to see the same happiness he felt in Ron, only to see his best friend looking down awkwardly at Harry. Wood’s face flashed in Harry’s mind for a moment and the boy gasped. “Oh… sorry,” Harry muttered, letting go of his friend as that fire inside him was doused just as Professor McGonagall have done to his shoes not moments ago, “didn’t know what got into me…”

“It’s alright,” Ron shrugged. “Well, we should probably get ready for the day right? You have to defeather yourself.”

Harry gave a sharp nod and picked up his shoes, walking a little slower than usual as each step felt a little harder to do than normal.

 

The weather that day was extremely cold and bitter as a blizzard came in over. The weather was so foul that Herbology was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, not that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey.

Harry found himself fretting around the castle, walking it’s corridors as he debated with himself on finding Justin to explain. It was during this that he ran into Blaise Zabini, who was returning back to the dungeons from the library. “Hello Harry,” he smiled.

“Blaise!” Harry said, relieved. The Slytherin made his way to Harry and smiled, “You look worried,” he said, “Anything the matter?”

“Yeah…” Harry nodded. “A lot of things, actually.”

“Wanna talk about it? We can talk about this otherness we’re both feeling too,” Blaise said.

“That would be great, yeah,” Harry nodded. They went to the nearest bench in the corridor. Blaise placed his books down next to him and the two sat next to each other, feeling each other’s heat against the cold winds that knocked against the corridor’s windows. “I want to explain to Justin what happened,” Harry began. “That I was telling the snake to get away from him, not edge him on. I didn’t want to scare him. And this morning… this morning I woke up feeling heavier than usual. My bed and body was just soaked with water! I thought I peed myself but haven’t, and everywhere I looked, there were chicken feathers! Just laying in my bed, stuck on my body—it took me forever to get them all out of my hair! My shoes were soaked too so Ron and I decided to put them in a sink full of fire to dry them, but instead it ended up burning them and we got in trouble with Professor McGonagall, but that’s not the important part, the important part is that I don’t know why but I just hugged Ron. And that hug just felt so good, I could feel his heat and mine—my face blush so much—and this otherness inside me just roared like a burning inferno! But Ron just looked awkward in the hug and that just made me feel very bad… it’s like my otherness was jumping around.”

“That’s a lot to unpack,” Blaise sighed after a short moment to make sure Harry was done talking.

“Sorry,” Harry blushed.

“No, don’t apologize,” Blaise said. “I have to admit though… that is a lot to go through.”

“I just feel like I’m starting to lose control—I mean I have no idea why I’ve hugged Ron! And… I saw Wood’s face,” Harry admitted. “His disturbed face after I told him about my otherness.”

“Was Ron’s harmful like Wood’s?” Blaise asked.

“No… just awkward,” Harry said. “He said that it was all good and… nothing weird happened between us after that. We bathed and got dressed like normal.”

“Weird,” Blaise commented. Harry nodded. He turned to Blaise and asked, “Have you felt anything like this?”

“Kind of,” Blaise nodded. “I blush easily whenever I’m around Theo or Draco… whenever one of them talk to me the otherness heats up slightly in me. I blush, smile easily… and lately I’m finding reasons, any reason, to talk to him. One time Theo touched my shoulder and I swore I could feel electricity coursing through my body.”

“Why was he touching your shoulder?” Harry asked.

“He wanted to borrow a quill,” Blaise explained. “Oh and one time… one time I ran into two older boys and… and they were doing _that,_ you know, the thing boyfriends and girlfriends do… _kissing.”_

“Kissing!” Harry gasped.

“Shh!” Blaise hushed, he looked around frantically. “Yes,” he said in a lower tone. And watching it did things to my body. I felt hot all over and… and…” Blaise blushed deeply. Biting his bottom lip, he glanced around and motioned for Harry to lean closer. He whispered something in Harry’s ear and the boy gasped, his face turning a similar shade of red. “That can happen?” he asked.

“Shh!” Blaise hushed again, “Yeah… and it got me thinking because I saw boys and girls kiss all the time and that never happened.”

“Never?” Harry asked.

“Never,” Blaise shook his head. “Have you ever—”

“No! I didn’t know it could do that,” Harry said, “I thought it was only for peeing!”

“It is… I think… maybe it makes peeing harder?” Blaise suggested.

Harry frowned, “Why would you want to make peeing harder?”

“That’s not the point,” Blaise said. “The point is that the otherness came only when I saw two boys kissing instead of a boy and a girl kiss.”

Harry had a thoughtful expression as he nodded slowly. He moved a little closer to Blaise and saw that they were both blushing. “I have an idea,” Harry breathed. “Something that might help us… or might not… however I want you to hear me out, okay?”

“Okay,” Blaise nodded.

“Kiss me,” Harry said. “We kiss and see what we feel. If the otherness acts up, maybe that’ll help us lead to figure out what it is and why we feel it only towards boys, because the heat never comes up for me around girls, how about you?”

“No, never,” Blaise said.

“So we should kiss and see what happens,” Harry said.  “But no matter what, we remain friends. Okay?”

Blaise thought for only a second before nodding, “Sure,” he said. They slid towards each other until their legs were pressed together. Harry suddenly became too aware of the height difference that was starting to develop between him and Blaise as he had to lean his head up slightly to look at the boy’s face. They were both smiling awkwardly, their cheeks blushing madly as their faces moved closer towards each other. Their foreheads met first, the other feeling each other’s heat as they amateurishly press their faces against each other’s. Harry turned his head before their noses could meet and their lips finally pressed with one another.

It was as though a star exploded between them. The heat inside them burst with electricity that coursed through one another as the otherness took hold. They kept their lips pressed, frozen like statues, their eyes shut as the explosion of emotions ran through them. Harry felt the heat and electricity swirl around him, his heart felt as though it was going thrice it’s normal speed. A thought in his mind grew; it felt as though the thought was always there, lingering in the background, and it took this kiss to have it leap out into the forefront. _I like kissing boys._ A sentence, yet still a powerful thing as Harry wanted the kiss between him and Blaise to never end. Not wanting to open his eyes, Harry reached for Blaise’s hand and hoped that he could find it quick. He did and their fingers interlaced as both boys pressed against each other with more vigor. Harry smiled in the kiss, filling the pieces fall into place inside him as he figured the same was happening to Blaise.

They separated only because they both needed to breathe. Smiling at each other, Blaise got a cocky little smirk as he said, “Well… I think I know what we’re feeling.”

“I think so too,” Harry breathed. “I like boys… I like kissing boys and being near them, smelling them, feeling them.”

“Same too,” Blaise nodded. “I like having boys’ attention, I like making them feel happy…”

“Did that kiss make you feel happy?” Harry asked.

“It did Harry,” Blaise smiled. “How about you?”

“Very,” Harry blushed. They didn’t want to let go of each other’s hand as they stared at each other. Staring at each other, Harry licked his lips as he couldn’t help but keep glancing at Blaise’s lips. “Do you think we should uh… try it again? Just to make sure?”

Blaise chuckled and answered by leaning forward, pressing his lips to Harry’s. The two kissed again, their bodies tingling at the sensation of kissing another boy, riding a high that they did not understand until they needed to breath. “Yup,” Blaise nodded, “Love boys.”

“Same,” Harry breathed. “So… now what? We know what our otherness is… right?”

“I would think so,” Blaise said. “Now we can just talk, hang around, do whatever you want to do.”

“I would like to spend some time with you Blaise,” Harry smiled. Blaise returned the smile and they both relaxed on the bench, very quickly falling into a deep conversation, losing track of time. They talked Quidditch, naturally, as well as interests and Christmas plans. Harry learned that Blaise lived with his mother, and he talked about living with the Dursleys, which Blaise shown great sympathy for.

The two friends jumped when the sound of a clock ringing echoed throughout the corridors, it was almost time for their next lesson! “Come on,” Harry said, “Professor Snape would be very angry if I’m late. He’ll likely find a way to poison my Christmas dinner.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Blaise laughed, “but if it makes you happy, we’ll move quickly.” Harry jerked his head, and the two ran down the corridor and down the stairs to turn into another corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. They were halfway down the passage when Harry tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.

He turned to squint at what he’d fallen over and felt as though his stomach dissolved.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn’t all, Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin’s.

Harry got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart doing a kind of drumroll against his ribs. He looked wildly up and down the corridors, ignoring Blaise who stared at the bodies slack-jawed, and saw a ling of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies.

“H-Harry…” Blaise stuttered. Harry stood there, panicking on what to do. They could run, and no one would ever know they had been there. But they can’t just leave them lying there. … He had to do get help. However, would anyone believe he had nothing to do with this?

As he stood there, he felt Blaise run up to him, looking frantic. “I hear footsteps Harry! Look it’s freezing—he must have been here all morning or something, we have to—”

But it was too late. The footsteps became louder and louder and soon the corridor was full both way with students and staff. There was a moment of silence as everyone stared at the four of them, before the voice of Peeves the Poltergeist screamed over all of them. “ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!!”

The crowds started to scream, some rushing towards Justin’s frozen body while others ran away, however it was pandemonium in that hallway as Harry found him and Blaise squished against the wall. He saw Professor McGonagall come running in. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone out of the hallway. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat, Peeves started singing at the top of his voice.

_“Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done  
You’re killing off students, you think it’s good fun—”_

“That’s enough Peeves!” Professor McGonagall barked, and Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry.

Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do with Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to one of the remaining students watching with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This left Professor McGonagall alone with Harry and Blaise.

“This way Potter,” she said.

“Professor, Harry didn’t do it, he was with me the entire period,” Blaise said.

“Professor I didn’t—”

“This is out of my hands, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said curtly. “You come along too, Zabini.”

They marched in silence around a corner and she stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle. “Lemon drop,” she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Harry and Blaise glanced at each other, both full of dread. Harry’s mind went back to the kiss and wished that he could still be back there. He wished he could be back on that bench talking with Blaise, or in the tub scrubbing off the chicken feathers… or even back in the room with Tom where they can talk freely. His mind flickered to the four books Tom showed him, and he worried if he picked the right one. He wished that he could choose again, if Tom would give him the option to. It scared him, however he started to wish that he could choose the first book he saw. The book on Dark Arts. His fear of his choice mixed with the dread of going up the spiraling staircase that appeared in front of them, and Harry felt as though he was going to vomit. He forced himself to stomach through it as the realization of where he and Blaise were heading dawned on him.

They were going to Professor Dumbledore’s office.


	7. The Chamber of Secrets

Ch. 7

The Chamber of Secrets

“Tom, I need to learn the Dark Arts.”

Harry’s voice was so full of urgency and seriousness that it shocked Tom. They were in their room again, dressed the same way they were. “Excuse me?” Tom said.

“Get that book of Dark Arts out, I need to learn them,” Harry said, “Please!”

Tom gave a chuckle. Standing from his seat, and looked down at Harry, “This is a rather sudden decision,” he said, “What happened?”

“It’s a long story Tom, will you teach me the Dark Arts?” Harry asked. He had a desperate look on his face that Tom loved. He made his way to Harry and placed a hand on the back of Harry’s neck. “I might,” He said, “if your story is good enough… come, tell me.”

He walked Harry over to the chair he was sitting in and sat down, having Harry sit on his lap. “What happened Harry?” he asked.

Harry wiggled on Tom’s lap until he could see the older boy’s face. “It started with me and Blaise kissing, we figured out that we both like boys! We talked about it and decided to kiss, and it felt like everything clicked! I like Blaise as  a friend of course, but still… it’s nice to know that our otherness is that we like boys, like kissing boys. We were on our way to class after our break when… when we went in this dark hallway and I…I… I tripped over the petrified body of Justin!” Harry frowned, he had to take a deep breath before he continued. “It was scary… but scarier still was that Nearly Headless Nick was attacked by the monster too! I don’t know how that could have happened. Peeves found us and screamed that I was the attacker and… we were surrounded. Professor McGonagall knocked them away but still it scared me because this morning I woke up with my clothes and shoes all wet and chicken feathers in my bed and hair! Someone really thinks I’m the Heir of Slytherin Tom, and I have no idea who that could be. …Anyway, both Blaise and I were sent to Professor Dumbledore’s office. We both began by saying that we didn’t do it obviously—that we were talking and found him—and Dumbledore interrupted us to say that he didn’t believe that we petrified Justin. He… he wanted to talk to me.”

“About what?” Tom asked.

“He wanted to know if there’s anything I wanted to tell him… anything at all,” Harry said.

“And what did you do, Harry?” Tom asked, his arms encircling the boy.

“I thought of the voices I heard in the walls…. And told Dumbledore no,” Harry said. “Did I do the right thing, Tom?”

“You did Harry,” Tom nodded, “And I will teach you the Dark Arts.”

“Thank you, Tom!” Harry smiled. “This is seriously going to help!”

“Of course,” Tom chuckled, “however, before we begin your instructions, Harry, there are things we must talk about. The Dark Arts are very dangerous, I need you to understand.”

“If it helps me defeat the monster I don’t care how dangerous they are!” Harry said. Tom had a strange look. Harry noticed this, and asked, “Tom… is something wrong?”

“This monster,” Tom said softly, slowly, “do you know what it is?”

“No one does,” Harry said.

“I can show you… but you will need to trust me,” Tom offered.

“I trust you Tom,” Harry smiled.

“Thank you for that, but you have to listen to what it is first,” Tom chuckled. Harry nodded and Tom said, “I cannot show you now, I am too weak, soon I can, but I must rest for a little while. When I show you, I will take you to where the monster lives, a place known only as the Chamber of Secrets. To do that, I will have to take possession of you. Like a ghost moving a doll. You will still be conscious of what you are doing, as you will be awake, however this requires complete and utter submission to me. Think about it, the choice is up to you. When we meet the monster, I will teach you the most dangerous magic of the Dark Arts. We will still have our lessons here, but I want you to know this now. Do not give me your answer now, my sweet Harry, think about it. For if you submit to me, I want you to do so willingly.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“What does submission mean?” Harry asked.

“It means, Harry, that you are… sort of giving yourself up to me, like how a weaker dog does to a stronger. You are opening yourself so that I can momentarily take control, but most importantly, so I can protect you, Harry,” Tom said sweetly. “And teach you…”

“Ohh, okay,” Harry nodded.

“So I want you to think on that during the Christmas break, and I will away your answer near the end… as well as what happened with the Polyjuice Potion,” Tom said.

“Right! That’s almost ready!” Harry gasped. “We should be able to do it during the Christmas break.”

“I see, then you must tell me everything you’ve learn during that experience,” Tom smiled. “For now, however, let’s begin your lesson…” He waved his hand and the Dark Arts books appeared. “Read the first chapter, Harry,” he instructed, having one of the books levitate in front of them.

Harry nodded and slipped off of Tom’s lap. He picked up the floating book and went to his own armchair. He opened the book and began reading slowly. The words were difficult at places, impossible at others. Every now and again he looked up at Tom and sheepishly asked him for definitions. After the fifth time, Tom waved his hand and a scroll with a quill appeared, each time Harry came across a word he did not know, he had to write it down and the definition Tom told him. And so they continued this way through the first chapter.

When they were done, Harry’s brain felt full and he was extremely tired. Tom closed the book with the list inside as a bookmark, and Harry found that his chair had turned into a bed. He closed his eyes, feeling Tom’s hands gentle lift off his glasses, before the blackness of sleep overtook him and held him for a time.

The news of the double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had the castle in the panic. It was Nick’s fate that gotten the students worried the most. What could happen to a ghost? What terrible powers did this monster possess that could kill or petrified a ghost? There was a stampede to reserve tickets on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.

At the rate everyone was going, Ron said, “We’d be the only ones left! Us, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. What a jolly holiday this is going to be.”

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays, too. But Harry was glad that most people were leaving. He was tired of people skirting around him in the corridors, as though he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as he passed.

At the end of term, Harry raced around the school with a shoddily wrapped present in his hands. The rumors and glares that were given about him could not squish his Christmas spirit as he thought about his new friend. The students leaving for the holidays were already lined up in the Entrance Hall and Harry moved between the lines, looking this way and that until he found his friend with a group of Slytherins. “Blaise!” he smiled.

The young Slytherin turned to see Harry. “Harry,” he smiled. “What are you doing here? I thought you were staying for the holidays.” Harry was relieved that Blaise didn’t want to hide their friendship. The Slytherins around them glared and hissed at Harry, but the small Gryffindor ignored them.

“I wanted to give you this before you go,” Harry said, presenting the present. “It was just delivered yesterday and I’m not a very good wrapper… sorry.”

“Aww Harry, thanks,” Blaise smiled. He hugged Harry which filled them both with the warmth that Harry now known as liking boys. Blaise took the gift gladly and gave a small sympathetic smile, “Now I feel bad, I don’t have my present for you on me—but you should get it on Christmas!”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I’m going to like it,” Harry smiled. Blaise smiled back and they shared another hug. Harry become aware of the glares he was getting and backed away slowly from Blaise. The Slytherin remained oblivious to it, but Harry became all but aware of the glares and hisses. One fierce look was from his Quidditch Captain, Oliver Wood. His face turning red, Harry turned and ran from the Entrance Hall as the students continued hissing and gossiping their way down to the Hogwarts Express.

Harry was glad when they were all gone, feeling the weight of their hisses and stares shift off of his shoulders. He felt he could relax, and focus on what was going to happen soon: Christmas, the Polyjuice Potion, and Tom. The castle was silence as deep as the snow was on the ground surrounding Hogwarts, and Harry found it peaceful, instead of gloomy. He, Hermione, and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice dueling in private. Every night Harry spent it with Tom, reading and learning more and more about the Dark Arts. It was all theory, Tom refused to teach him proper spells until Harry chooses to submit, which the boy was thinking of.

Christmas morning dawned cold and white. At the foot of Harry’s bed was a pile of presents that the small boy couldn’t wait to open. However, as he picked up the first present, Hermione burst in smiling, “Wake—oh good you’re up Harry—Ron get up!” she said.

“Hermione, what’s going on?” Ron demanded groggily.

“Happy Christmas to you too—get up, I’ve been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It’s ready.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked.

“Positive,” Hermione said. “If we’re going to do it, I say we do it tonight.”

Harry nodded in agreement, “Tonight then,” he said. Excited for the potion, Harry turned his attention to the presents, picking up a very small shoddy card from the Dursleys which he threw to the side, not caring what was inside. His other presents, he thought, would be much more satisfactory. From Hagrid he got a large tin of treacle fudge, which Harry decided to soften by the fire before eating; Ron had given him a book called _Flying with the Cannons,_ a book about Ron’s favorite Quidditch team, and Hermione had brought him a luxury eagle-feather quill. Harry opened the second to last present to find that Blaise gave him what looked like a very big and very comfortable blanket that Harry immediately wrapped himself in as he opened up Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s gift, which was a new hand-knitted sweater and a large plum cake.

No one could resist the merriment that Christmas dinner brought, not even a person dreading to take a Polyjuice Potion right afterwards. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Harry, however, was focused on something else entirely. Hermione informed them that they needed hair from the people they were going to turn into, meaning that Harry and Ron had to get hair from Crabbe and Goyle. Harry volunteered to get them, feeling a little lucky on the sneaking front. Thankfully, Hermione, being Hermione, was fully prepared and given Harry two cupcakes poisoned with Sleeping Draughts.

He saw his opportunity after dessert. He and Ron waited silent in a corner of the entrance hall, the cupcakes waiting on a banister for Crabbe and Goyle, who were the only ones still in the Great Hall helping themselves to a fourth helping of pie. As expected, Crabbe and Goyle ecstatically pointed and grabbed at the cupcakes, eating them greedily. There was no chance in their expressions as they chewed the whole cupcakes, falling to their knees suddenly and bowed backwards to the floor.

By far the hardest part was hiding them in a closet across the hall. Once they were safely stowed among the buckets and mops, Harry yanked out a couple of the bristles that covered Goyle’s forehead and Ron pulled out several of Crabbe’s hairs. They also stole their shoes, because their own were too small for Crabbe and Goyle’s feet, and Harry did not want to ruin his only pair of shoes again.

The two sprinted back to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Hermione was there, stirring the potion which glugged and bubbled ugly, looking like thick, dark mud that bubbled sluggishly. “You got it?” Hermione asked.

Harry showed Hermione the hair.

“Good,” Hermione said. She pulled out a vial from her pocket. “I have mine too, took it from Millicent Bulstrode during the dueling club,” she said.

“Now what?” Ron asked, staring at the cauldron.

“We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs,” Hermione said, indicating to three glass tumblers. She ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hands trembling, she shook Millicent Bulstrode’s hair out of its bottle into the first glass. Harry took his and added Goyle’s while Ron added Crabbe’s into his.

“Wait,” Harry said, “our clothes won’t fit, we better not drink it here.”

“Good idea,” Hermione said. “I’ve already nicked spare Slytherin Robes from the laundry.”

“We’ll take separate stalls,” Ron said. Careful not to slip a sip, Harry moved to the middle stall. “Ready?” he called out.

“Ready,” came Ron’s and Hermione’s voices.

“One—two—three!”

Pinching his nose, Harry drank the potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage. The effect was immediate. His insides started writhing as though he’d just swallowed live snakes—doubled up, a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his fingers and toes—next, bringing him gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling as the skin all over his body bubbled like hot wax—and before his eyes, his hands began to grow, the fingers thickened, the nails broadened and dirtied, the knuckles were bulging like bolts—his shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down towards his eyebrows—he quickly disrobed as his chest started to expand.

As suddenly as it started, it ended. Harry lay facedown on the stone-cold floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the end toilet. With difficulty, he kicked off his shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like to be Goyle. He changed into the large robes Hermione stole. His vision was blurry, and it took Harry a moment to realize that Goyle doesn’t need glasses.

When he was done, he called out in Goyle’s voice, “Are you two okay?”

“Yeah,” came the deep grunt of Crabbe from his right. Harry unlocked the door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Goyle stared back at him. “It worked,” he grunted.

Ron’s door opened. Crabbe came walking out. They stared at each other. “This is unbelievable,” Ron said in Crabbe’s voice. “You’re Harry right?”

“’Course I am,” Harry replied. “We better get going,” he said, loosening his watch that was cutting into Goyle’s thick wrist. “Hermione come on!”

A high-pitched voice answered him. “I—I don’t think I’m going to come after all. You go on without me.”

“Hermione, I know Millicent’s ugly, no one’s going to know it’s you—”

“No—really—I don’t think I’ll come. You two hurry up, you’re wasting time! You only have an hour,” Hermione said.

Harry thought for a minute, “Alright,” he said, “We’ll be quick and tell you everything. Come on Ron!”

He began to leave only for Ron to shout out, “Do you even know where the Slytherin Common Room is?”

“Kind of I have a feeling—let’s go!” Harry stressed. Ron, seeing no choice, followed Harry out of the bathroom. Harry led Ron to the entrance hall and turned towards the dungeons, “The common room’s down there,” he said.

“How do you know this Harry?” Ron demanded.

“Blaise,” Harry answered simply, “he told me once when I was trying to find it. Didn’t tell me where exactly—hope we can find a Slytherin.”

“You and Zabini are spending a lot of time together,” Ron said, jealousy clear in his voice. Harry blushed at this, causing Goyle’s face to look like a rather hideous tomato.

“Well…” Harry tried to explain himself.

“What are you two doing here?” a girl’s voice asked. Harry and Ron turned around to see a female Slytherin around their age. She has her hands on her hips. “Well?”

“Uhh… who are you?” Ron asked dumbly in Crabbe’s voice.

“Ha ha, very funny Crabbe,” the girl said, “Everyone forgetting that Tracey Davis exists. You know, I have feelings too idiot, but you’re just too far thick-headed to realize that!”

“What do you want?” Harry grunted.

“Malfoy’s been looking for you and sent me to get you! Me! As if I’m only remembered to do something for something else,” she grumbled. “Come on!” She walked past Harry and Ron. The two shared a look and followed the forgetful, uninteresting Slytherin to a stretch of bare, damp stone wall. “Pure-blood,” she barked. The stone door creaked open.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, green lamps were hanging. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantlepiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.

“Here,” the girl said, marching Harry and Ron to a set of chairs set back from the fire. Malfoy was waiting there with a newspaper.

“Took you fat faces long enough,” Malfoy grunted. “Sit down!” Harry and Ron did and Davis waited by them. Malfoy turned to her, “What do you want?” he asked.

“You’re welcome!” She said, annoyed. Malfoy dismissed her with a “whatever” and turned to Harry and Ron. _How is Blaise friends with him?_ Harry thought to himself. “This’ll give you a laugh,” Draco said, giving Harry the newspaper. Harry looked down and saw Mr. Weasley’s name and set it aside.

“Wanted to ask you something,” he grunted, not wanting to let Ron see it.

“Grew a brain Goyle? What the blazes do you want to know?” Malfoy asked. “You two so stupid you need someone to read the newspaper to you?”

“No,” Harry said. “Wanted to know if you know who the Slytherin’s Heir is.”

Malfoy eyed him for a moment. “Told you already I don’t, Goyle,” he said. “Though I wish I did… can you believe that those idiots out there think Potter’s the Heir? Saint Potter, the Mudblood’s friend. It’s a mockery! He’s another wizard with no proper upbringing or he wouldn’t go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood!”

“You sound jealous,” Ron said in Crabbe’s voice, his jaw dropped so that Crabbe looked even more clueless than usual.

“Jealous! As if I would be jealous of that stupid mudblood Granger and those blood traitors Weasleys!” Malfoy said. “They all should be banned from this school. If a proper wizard was headmaster here than they would be! Father always said that Dumbledore was the worst thing to ever happen to Hogwarts.”

“You must have an idea,” Harry said.

“You know I haven’t, Goyle! How many times do I have to tell you?” Malfoy snapped. “And Father won’t tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it’ll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing—the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a mudblood died. So I bet it’s a matter of time before one of them’s killed this time. …I hope it’s Granger,” he said with relish.

Ron was clenching Crabbe’s gigantic fists. Feeling that it would be a big of a giveaway if Ron punched Malfoy, Harry shot him a warning look and said, “D’you know if the person who opened the Chamber was caught?”

“Oh yeah… whoever it was, was expelled,” Malfoy said. “They’re probably still in Azkaban.” _Must have been the pretender,_ Harry thought to himself, _however Tom never told me about a person dying… I have to talk to him about that._

Draco continued on. “Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he’s got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided out manor last week? Luckily, they didn’t find much. Father’s got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we’ve got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor—”

“Oh!” Ron said. Malfoy looked at him. So did Harry. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening. _The hour can’t be up already!_ Harry panicked. Both he and Ron stared at each other. Ron was turning back to himself and, from the look of horror he was suddenly giving Harry, he must be too.

They both jumped to their feet. Without any reason, they both ran out of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hasn’t noticed anything. Harry could feel his feet slipping around Goyle’s huge shoes and had to hoist up his robes as he shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of muffled pounding coming from the closet where they’d locked Crabbe and Goyle. Leaving their shoes outside the closet door, they sprinted in their socks up the marble staircase towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

“Hermione! Hermione! Come out,” Harry panted.

“Go away!” Hermione squeaked.

“What’s the matter?” Ron said. “You must be back to normal by now! We are!”

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Harry never saw her look so happy. “Oh just wait till you see her,” she said. “It’s awful—”

They hared the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head. “It wasn’t Millicent Bulstrode’s hair,” she sobbed, lowering her robes. “She has a cat! It was cat hair!”

Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed hears poking through her hair. “Uh-oh,” Ron said.

“You’ll be teased something dreadful,” Myrtle said happily.

“It’s okay Hermione,” Harry said quickly. “We’ll take you up to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey never asks too many questions…”

It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom, and even longer for Harry to get back in bed where he once again fell into his and Tom’s room. “Well? What happened?” Tom asked.

Harry told him everything that had occurred, from what Draco told them, to turning into Goyle and Hermione’s misfortune.

“She will be fine,” Tom said with a little chuckle. “Polyjuice Potion, even a poorly made one, is meant to be temporary… it’ll just take her longer.”

Harry nodded and frowned, “There’s one thing that I want to know, however, about the Chamber of Secrets.”

“What is it?” Tom asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me that the last time it was opened, somebody died?” Harry asked.

Tom gave a frown, “Dead is a touchy subject, Harry,” he said. “Not all of us can avoid it, like you have once.”

“Still, you should have told me Tom!” Harry said.

“It would have changed nothing,” Tom shrugged, “Only give you some unneeded fear or stupid heroic courage—none of which are admirable traits, Harry.”

“But still—you lied to me…” Harry sighed. “Do you know who it was? That was killed?”

“Indeed, and in fact, you’ve mentioned her multiple times,” Tom said. “You call her Moaning Myrtle, but I’ve known her as Myrtle Warren.” Harry found that he wasn’t at all shocked by this. Instead he just nodded. Tom asked, “Since you are asking about it, can I guess that you’ve come to a decision?”

“Yes Tom,” Harry said. “Possess me… I want to submit to you, I want to see the Chamber of Secrets and the monster and learn all that I can from you.”

“Your personality might change a little because of this Harry, you’ll be more susceptible to dark ideas…” Tom warned.

“I don’t care,” Harry said. “I need to do this to make sure that Hermione isn’t another Myrtle.”

Tom gave a serpent-like smirk. He stepped closer to Harry and rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “This shouldn’t be a path to go down to save others, Harry,” he warned.

“I know… I want to get more powerful Tom,” Harry said, looking up to meet Riddle’s eyes. “Both for my sake and the sake of my friends.”

“Do you want this power willingly?”

“Yes.”

“Do you crave the obedience to grasp it, Harry?” Tom hissed softly. “Are you willing to follow my orders as both your instructor and mentor?”

“Yes,” Harry said after a minute.

“Are you willing to bound yourself to me? To open yourself to possession willingly?” Tom asked.

“I am Tom,” Harry said with the same determination.

“Good… one last question, to make sure you are ready,” Tom purred. “Are you prepared, Harry, to take responsibility of any and all actions you take… and secrets you will now have to hold?”

This question caught Harry off guard. However, he did not have a chance to think about it as he said, “Yes, I am, Tom.”

“Excellent,” Tom smiled. “Now kneel before me Harry… and wake up.”

Harry knelt and felt a strange feeling overcome him. It wasn’t painful like the Polyjuice potion, in fact it felt like a rather giddy sensation, as if his brain was floating along a lazy river made of clouds. Tom disappeared before him, and in a blink of his eyes, the room was replaced by his dormitory. He felt odd as when his body moved, it wasn’t Harry who did it.

“I am right here inside you Harry,” Tom whispered inside his mind. “Just follow along…”

Harry reasoned that it was okay, and he enjoyed the brainless floating sensation of allowing Tom in control. It was very odd, watching his surroundings walk pass him as his body moved, yet he could not feel any of his muscles moving. He could not feel the connection between his brain and body that told his feet to take measured strides down the steps wearing nothing but his pajamas and slippers, nor could he feel anything as his hand grazed along the wall as he walked down the staircases. He opened his mouth to talk yet found that he couldn’t!

“Think, Harry, and I will listen,” Tom chuckled in his voice.

 _This feels very weird,_ Harry thought in his head.

“Relax and accept it Harry, this is a literal interpretation of your submission to me,” Tom said. “You have no idea how long I wanted this to happen, Harry Potter…”

The phrase confused Harry, yet as he watched his body move out of Gryffindor Tower and into the school’s corridors. As he made his way to the grand staircase, Harry couldn’t help but feel as though this feeling was familiar. As though he had done this before. _Tom,_ he thought as they went down the stairs, _why do I feel as though this is familiar?_

Harry’s body continued it’s long strides and slowly, but surely, Harry stared to realize where they were going as they went further and further down the staircases, and across the corridors. _Tom,_ he thought again _, what’s happening? Why are we going to Myrtle’s Bathroom?_

“Because that is where the entrance is, Harry,” Tom said in his mind. “The entrance that it took me five long years to search for… to think, my pet, that you will be second I’ve brought down here… but the first to be conscious.” Harry could hear Tom’s soft chuckling inside him, and his heart started to beat faster. Tom could sense his confusion, “I will explain everything my pet,” he said, “once we are inside.”

Harry could only watch as his body went into the girl’s bathroom. Myrtle wasn’t there, but he could hear her crying echoing in the pipes, as though she was far away. Harry was confused on where they could possibly be going, he could barely wrap his head around what Tom had said as his body went to a sink. He saw for just a brief moment that the faucet had a snake carved into it before his mouth opened for the first time all night, and he hissed in Parseltongue. _“Open.”_

The sink rumbled and shook as it sank slowly to the floor much to Harry’s amazement. However, as he watched, he got the distinct feeling that he had seen this before… that he had seen the giant hole that was left behind the sink before. “You have,” Tom chuckled. “Now jump, Harry.”

His knees buckled down, and before Harry could protest or yell, his body flung himself into the darkness. The dark hole was a pipe, a pipe large enough for a man to slide down, and Harry found himself sliding down it endlessly. As he slid, he thought he could feel Tom’s hands on his brain. _What are you doing?_ He panicked.

“Just holding onto you, Harry,” Tom explained. “Like I said… possessing you can cause changes mentally. It already has, my pet. Your sudden interest in the Dark Arts for one… I just want to make sure you remain yourself.”

 _You mean this has happened before?_ Harry panicked. But he didn’t need Tom to answered him. The darkness was familiar, he could remember sliding down this very pipe once before, and at the end lied a damp floor of a large dark tunnel that was large enough to stand in. _I was here before!_ He realized.

“Indeed, you have been, pet,” Tom mused.

 _What is going on Tom? Tell me!_ Harry yelled in his mind, but the memories were slowly coming back again. He could remember going outside in the freezing snow, his shoes getting soaked and his body freezing as he strangled roosters. Then, he went back inside… went to Myrtle’s bathroom and slide down the pipe as he was doing now, landing in the same dark tunnel that he stood only a moment later.

He remembered walking down the tunnel as he did so, however this time, he was conscious of it, as Tom spoke in his foggy mind. “Together we have been down here only once before. Together, however, I have been here twice with the one who held my diary… that insufferable little girl named Ginny Weasley.”

_Ginny!_

“Yes, that girl,” Tom chuckled. “The first was to visit an old friend, this monster we are about to visit, that led to the cat Mrs. Norris becoming petrified. She was so hungry, my friend, having eaten nothing but rats for fifty years… And a cat was just a cat, nobody would miss it in the end. However, then I’ve met you Harry, and you’ve just become so interesting… after all, Ginny told me everything about you, gushing about you every moment she could. And I wondered, how could the greatest wizard ever existed be bested by a baby? How is it that when Lord Voldemort came to you on that faithful day, he was left with nary a soul and body, but you’ve just gotten a scar. The more time we’ve spent together Harry, the closer I became with you and the answer still eluded me. However, we were almost close enough for me to take you. I still had my hold on the Weasley girl, but it was becoming weaker and weaker with every passing day. I’ve began to experience your experiences, feel your feelings… see through your eyes. I could feel your annoyance with that airhead professor and annoying Creevey… so I’ve decided to help you. However, you were stuck without a limb in the hospital bed.

“So, with the last of my strength, I’ve took control of Weasley once more and sent the monster out against the both of them… my power dying only when I could petrify Creevey. My influence over Weasley was gone, however that did not concern me as my influence on you grown stronger still. However I was not strong enough to bring you down here until recently…

 _Justin,_ Harry thought somberly.

“Yes, Justin Finch-Fletchey,” Tom said. “He just had to get in the way. Spreading all those hateful things about you just because you are a Parseltongue… he just had to be silenced. Unfortunately, there was that pesky ghost in the way, but he will not die again…”

 _But why Tom? Why did you do all of this?_ Harry demanded, his heart race beating faster and faster as his mind felt foggier and darker.

“For you, my pet. Everything I’ve done was all for you… you remind me of a boy that I once held dear. His name was Adrian Balk… he was my lover, my confidant, and my entire world. Until he killed himself. It was dark times, Harry. Our otherness had a name, you see, homosexuality, and during my time it was a crime. His father found out and both were filled with great shame… but that can be a story for later. For now, however, I just couldn’t believe how innocent you were, how impressionable and sweet, just like my Adrian. I could not help but fall in love… an emotion that my other self must have fully thrown away by now. So, because of that love, I have decided, my sweet Harry, to bring you down here. To show to you this ‘monster’ and tell you everything.”

 _What do you mean by everything?_ Harry asked. _What do you mean by your other self, Tom?_

“I mean the me who has outlived my diary,” Tom said. “Remember Harry, I am only my memories of how I was at seventeen years old… I have far outlived that age, but I, myself, would have no knowledge of that. Ah, we are here…”

Harry stopped at a stone wall with two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds. Harry’s mouth opened once more and once more spoke Parseltongue, demanding for the wall to open. It obeyed, the serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the two halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry walked inside.

“Welcome, my dear Harry, to the Chamber of Secrets,” Tom said in his head.

Harry shook inside though his body remained calm. _Tom please,_ he pleaded, _you’re confusing me, I don’t understand, please explain… I want to learn the Dark Arts, I do, I don’t care that you might have done something to me to make me want to learn—_

“I’ve done nothing on that approach Harry, I simply brought out your curiosity about it,” Tom chuckled. “I do not want to confuse you my pet, in fact I want to opposite. Don’t you feel the bond that tie us together? Surely, you can say that your feelings to me are more than simple friendship…”

 _I… I don’t know… I like you Tom, I like sitting on you but… I can’t understand my feelings,_ Harry frowned.

“It is fine, in time, those feelings will let themselves known,” Tom said. “All I ask if for a chance to develop these feelings… physically. But before that, Harry… I am happy to hear that you truly do want to learn the Dark Arts, my pet. And so I will teach you… however, I want you to do one more thing. Kneel.” Harry felt a sudden heaviness as he felt control of his body again. His skin prickled at the cold damn again, his feet shivered as his slippers did nothing to protect them against the stone floor. He was cold, confused, and a little afraid. However, he knelt there, alone. Squinting in the Chamber of Secrets, at the end of the long massive hall, he could see a large statue of a wizard.

“Good, my pet,” Tom cooed, and Harry’s cheeks blushed as his heart began to beat for a different matter than nerves. “Swear your submissiveness to me Harry, let the Chamber know, that you serve me.”

“I—” Harry was shocked that he could talk again. “I swear my submissiveness to you Tom Riddle,” he said.

“My full name, please Harry,” Tom chuckled.

“I don’t know your full name…”

“Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Tom said.

Harry nodded and said with a little more confidence, “I swear my submissiveness to you, Tom Marvolo Riddle!” There was a gust around him, he felt something change within him as the cold stinging gust whirled around invisible but loud. He felt feelings and thoughts that he was ashamed to have slowly sap into the foreground. His anger and annoyance with others grew, his hatred for the Dursleys fueled him and he could feel his heart beat fast as his skin felt frozen for a moment only to thawed at a strange embrace that warmed him, though there was no light. Tom’s laughter echoing throughout the hallway as Harry felt his change. He felt power, more power than he could ever imagine, and the small boy felt thrilled by it.

“You’ve begun your step towards the Dark Arts Harry,” Tom explained inside him. Harry blinked for a moment, he felt woozy, yet he could swear that he could see Tom standing in front of him, not a ghost, yet not a human. Transparent but touchable. A contradiction that shouldn’t exist, yet there he was in front of Harry, holding him steady as Harry’s knees buckled. “Now, Harry, for my little secret,” Tom said softly. “My sweet submissive… I am Lord Voldemort.”


	8. Dire Decisions

Ch. 8

Dire Decisions

Tom Riddle is Voldemort. The beautiful teen standing in front of Harry was the same person who killed his parents. Harry didn’t know what to do. He felt torn in half. He had sworn his submissiveness… his obedience to the one who destroyed his family! He felt betrayed, disgusted, trap and hurt at the same time. Tears came easy to his eyes as he stared at the teenager. “Tom,” he forced out, his voice shaky and weak. “Tom… what…”

Tom stared down at Harry, a strange smirk on his face. “Surprised, my little submissive?” he mused. “Shocked?”

“You… you monster,” Harry breathed.

“Excuse me?”

Harry glared up at Tom, his eyes red with tears, “You monster!” he screamed. “I trusted you! I cared for you! You monster! You killed my parents!”

“I’ve no memory of that,” Tom said calmly.

“Liar!” the twelve year old raged. “You monstrous liar!” The winds died down and Harry lunged for Tom… only to fall onto the floor.

“I’ve no physical form, Harry,” Tom said in an amused voice. “Now be my big boy now and stand up.”

“Shut up!” Harry yelled. “How can you trick me like this? Doing all of this—letting me sit on your lap! You killed my parents!”

“Silence!” Tom roared. The winds returned and the light seemed to dim. Harry felt as though the room was closing in, his vision started to tunnel, with Tom as the focus. He stood his ground, however, pulling his wand out and aiming it at Tom. “You dare—”

“I do!” Harry yelled. “You killed my parents!”

“Harr—”

 _“Expelliarmus!”_ Harry yelled. The scarlet spell shot out of Harry’s wand and hit Tom, going straight through his body. The older teen laughed. “The Disarming Spell? Really? Honestly Harry, you’re—”

 _“Stupefy!”_ That spell too flew right through Tom Riddle’s body. The teenager laughed as Harry began more frustrated and frantic, casting every spell he knew. Riddle’s laugh reverberated from the walls, jets of light flashed from Harry’s wand only to pass through Riddle’s body harmlessly. Harry started to shake as he was reaching the end of his repertoire of spells, reaching to the farthest corners of his mind for them. He started to become exhausted, he could feel his body becoming weak as he started to run out of spells.

Then, from the darkest depths of his subconscious, without knowing or meaning to, Harry’s body in a state of exhaustion moved by itself as if something inside him was taking control. His wand moving shakily, he aimed at Tom and casted a final spell, “Avada Kedavra…”

A weak light green light burst from Harry’s wand. The wind died and Tom stared at the boy. “Even if that spell could hit me,” he said slowly, “the worst you could do is give me a scratch.”

Harry stared at him. He felt exhausted, however he also felt a dreadful confusion over him. He didn’t know where that spell came from, he couldn’t understand the situation he was in… he felt broken by Tom’s betrayal and why he his spells couldn’t hit him.

“Are you done?” Tom asked. Harry glared at him. Tom smirked down and walked towards him, his footsteps echoing in the chamber. He knelt down and glanced around for a quick moment, “You know, between you and me, technically I’m not at fault for your parents death.” Harry’s glare grew fiercer but he said nothing. “Yes, I know it’s true… but I am innocent in a technically, not that it matters. You’ve sworn yourself to me Harry, Dark Magic courses inside you, I’m sure you can feel it.”

Harry frowned, Tom was right. He could feel something dark and powerful pulse inside him. However, he needed to know. “Explain,” he said weakly.

“Excuse me?”

“Explain, Tom,” Harry demanded in a stronger voice. “How you are ‘innocent.’”

“Very well, I will explain to you, my sweet pet,” Tom purred. Harry shivered in fear and a self-disgust. “I did not kill your parents, not yet, the way you see me now is how I am… and was when I created my diary. I only have my memories and experiences of up until I graduated from Hogwarts, so with that logic, my submissive, I am completely innocent.”

Harry glared at him. “I hate you,” he said, though his voice did not mean it. The weird feeling inside him swirled and pulsed and anger grew as he found he couldn’t hate this monster in front of him. The feeling pulled him towards Tom, whispering for him to trust the lair. “I hate you so much.”

“You do not mean that,” Tom chuckled.

“I do,” Harry said. “You lied to me.”

“How did I lie to you?” Tom asked. “Have I ever mentioned that I am not Lord Voldemort? No, I have not mention him, if barely. So you see my sweet, I have never lied to you. I would never lie to you.”

“Liar—”

“Harry, haven’t you been listening?” Tom sighed. “I never lie to my boy, my submissive. I’ve never lied to Adrian, and I have never lied to you. Withhold information, yes, but never lie. Now… stand up fully boy.”

Harry glared at him but stood up. Tom smirked at that, but Harry said, “I didn’t stand because you told me to, liar! You still killed my family.”

He winced in pain, Tom did nothing but still the strange darkness inside him felt disapproved that Harry was yelling at the older teen. But he did not care, he pushed through it as he did his best to summon up more of his magical strength. His arm oddly steady, he aimed his wand once more at Tom. “I trusted you,” he said. “I liked you—I followed you and you—you—you’re a complete monster.”

“And your current Master,” Tom said. “I have opened your world, Harry, and you want to be ungrateful? Remember… I still have control over your body.” Harry suddenly felt very rigid. His arms snapped to his sides while his legs snapped together. He tried to open his mouth, but it felt as though it was wired shut. “And you look like you need a lesson.”

Harry tried to struggle or move, but still, his efforts were fruitless as Tom stepped in front of him. Though his spells could not hit him, and he himself went flying right through the teen, somehow Tom was able to take Harry’s wand and fiddle with it with his fingers as he talked. “Right now, my pet, there are basically two of me running around. The first is myself, your master and Dominant. The one you have sworn your submissiveness and, in that submissiveness, made me feel love again. The other is Lord Voldemort. The person who made me… he is the original, however if my plans went to fruition, then I am more me than he is now.” He chuckled at something that Harry did not understand, but knew that Tom wouldn’t explain. “It was him, not me, that killed your parents Harry. Him, not me, who made you into an orphan. It was him who made you live with those disgusting muggles, him who cause you agony last year when he tried to get the Philosopher’s Stone… It is Lord Voldemort who deserves your ire, your anger, your hatred. Not me, not Tom. Not the boy you care for… listen to your feelings Harry, all of your feelings, and you will find your answer.

“Stay with me, voluntarily, and I will teach you how to kill Lord Voldemort. Try to resist, and you will face consequences. It’s your choice Harry. Choose.”

At Tom’s word, he felt his body slacken. His limbs were no longer stiff as statues, and he staggered to stop himself from falling. Glaring up at the older teen, Harry’s head felt stuffed and chaotic as if there was a raging storm brewing inside. He did his best to focus and think it threw, Tom’s words whispering ceaseless in his ears. He wanted to hate Tom so much for killing his parents. For forcing him to live with the Dursleys—but he found that he couldn’t. His hatred couldn’t be directed at the beautifully handsome boy in front of him, instead they were directed, altered, to Lord Voldemort, to the remnants of a man that he fought last year, to that monster who seemed more creature than man, who drank on Unicorn blood to survive and who used the easily corruptible Quirrell.

They were different people? Right? The Tom in front of Harry, and the Voldemort who killed hundreds… Tom said that he was more him than Voldemort was, that somehow, Tom was more human… it confused Harry. However he couldn’t hate him. He couldn’t bring himself to.

Quite the opposite, really, the more Harry thought about it. He looked up at Tom again, but his eyes softened, his heart quickened, and cheeks reddened. His eyes dilating, he couldn’t help as a soft smile twitched on the edges of his mouth. He took a step forward. Tom did not move. He took another step and still Tom stayed still. _He trusts me?_ Harry wondered as he stepped closer and closer to Tom. Each step increasing his feelings as their distance closed slowly, inch by inch until Harry felt as though he was going to explode!

He reached up and grabbed Tom’s tie. The older, stronger teen allowed him as Harry pulled, Tom bending so they were face to face. Harry’s eyes hesitated for only a second until, still gripping Tom’s tie, he lunged forward and kissed the teen.

Tom quickly took control, wrapping his hands and pulling Harry up, motioning for the boy to wrap his legs around Tom. Harry did so, and both moaned in the kiss as Tom’s tongue slipped into Harry’s mouth, exploring and claiming it for his own.

When they parted, Harry’s lips were swollen, and he was short of breath. “I submit,” Harry sighed, “teach me everything… Master.”

“Gladly,” Tom smirked, and he claimed Harry’s lips again. The boy felt something lock inside him, something open up and fill him with this new excitement as, just as Blaise explained, he gotten a stiffness that he never experienced before. Tom ignored it and lowered Harry to the ground. “I knew you would make the right choice Harry, now, come with me.”

He walked ahead, Harry had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to touch Tom again if he tried as his body went back to shimmering like a disturbed lake. Harry followed him down the hallway towards the large statue of a man. They walked until they reached the end of the pathway, where a large pool of water laid around the foot of the man. “And now, Harry, to introduce you to the ‘monster of the Chamber,’” Tom chuckled. Harry felt the weightless feeling again.

Both he and Tom moved as one as they outstretched their hands to the statue. Their mouths opening, both spoke in Parseltongue, Tom controlling Harry’s tongue, _“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!”_

Harry only realized that the statue depicted Salazar Slytherin as the statue’s mouth started to open, growing wider and wider, to make a black hole. Something was stirring inside the statue’s mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths. Harry instinctively backed away but Riddle did not move. A snake, giant and long, coiled out of the mouth, hitting the floor with a loud thud that made Harry shutter. It’s heavy slithering body began to move towards them, but Tom commanded it to stop.

“Do not look at it’s head,” Tom said.

“What is that?” Harry demanded, keeping his eyes directly at the floor.

“A basilisk,” Tom said simply. “It is how I have been attacking the students. It’s gaze is deadly, one look into it’s eyes and your body will instantly freeze with death.”

“Then… then how is it nobody has died yet?” Harry asked.

“The eyes needed to be stared at directly,” Tom said.

“Directly…” Harry started to think upon the attacks. He found himself closing his eyes himself as he thought. “Of course… no one who has been attacked has seen it directly, have they?”

“No, such a shame,” Tom hummed. Even through closed eyes, Harry found a way to glare at Tom. Even though he started to separate the boy from Voldemort, he was still furious at him.

“Colin had his camera, yeah… and Justin must have seen it through Nearly Headless Nick! But Nick is a ghost, he cannot die twice, can he?” Harry said, working it out for himself. “And Mrs. Norris… she must have saw it through the reflection in the water.”

“What fine deduction you have…” Tom drawled. “Three unsuccessful attacks.”

“And thank god they were unsuccessful!” Harry yelled. “I would never forgive you or myself if one of them dies.”

“And why do you care if one of them dies?” Tom asked. “One constantly hounded you and the other was going to spread rumors of how you’re the Heir of Slytherin, a very evil and dark wizard—”

“But I am a Dark Wizard,” Harry said. “I am now… and I am the Heir of Slytherin because of you.”

“You are welcome for both,” Tom smirked. “However I did not bring you down here for a chat or attack.”

“Then what?” Harry asked.

“Simple, my pet, I want my body back,” Tom said. “I am tired of being locked in that book for fifty years. I need a body, and in order to do that, I need a person’s magical energy. All of it.”

“No… you can’t mean—”

“Relax pet, I don’t mean you,” Tom said. “However—would you open your eyes?” Tom demanded. “Just avoid the basilisk’s head!”

Harry opened his eyes hesitantly to see that Tom was standing in front of him, taking up most of his view. Behind him he could see the large body of the basilisk, however its head was not in sight. “Good boy,” Tom purred. “Now, I do not mean yours, you are too useful to use as a simple sacrifice. I need another, someone you can lure down here. Perhaps one of the Weasleys, nobody will notice if one goes missing, or that Zabini fellow—”

“No,” Harry said. “You will not hurt my friends.”

“Then let’s choose someone who _isn’t_ your friend,” Tom said simply.

“What are you going to do?” Harry asked.

“Take their magic and life so my soul can escape the diary,” Tom said.

“So, I’ll be sending them to their death,” Harry frowned.

“Yes.”

Harry’s stomach didn’t feel good. He felt like he was going to throw up but the sensation would never come. Swallowing heavily, he hated himself for how easily a name came to him. “A person who won’t be missed and nobody notices… Tracey Davis.”

“Who?” Tom asked.

“Exactly,” Harry said, smiling through the heavy hatred he was feeling. “She’s a nobody, most people don’t even know she exists—and she’s mostly ignored by everyone living and dead! Why, she’s the perfect victim right?” He looked up at Tom, a crazed look in his eyes.

The teen smiled at that. “Yes, she will be,” he purred. “But before that, you need lessons… and some reminders. Come, my pet, it is getting late, and you need sleep.” Harry nodded. He felt Tom walk inside him and all of the horrible feelings he had washed away. Without Tom blocking his view, Harry could see the basilisk’s body clearly. He could feel Tom take control of his body again, but like the first time, he welcomed it as they dismissed the giant snake. It slithered back into the giant mouth of Slytherin, and Harry turned around, walking calmly away from the Chamber of Secrets.

He knew that his life was forever changed, he could no longer go back to before. Everything was in the open now, and all that was left was to deal with the consequences, whatever they are. He still might have been angry at Tom, however he found that his real anger, his real rage that he had long ignored boiling hotly inside him boiled for a different name. He did not know when or how, however Harry knew that one day he will kill the Lord Voldemort that killed his parents, the Lord Voldemort he fought last year.

And he’s going to love every moment of it.


	9. A Darkness Reborn

Ch. 9

A Darkness Reborn

It took Harry and Tom a month to put their plan into action. They have devoted their nights to one spell, the only spell Tom assured Harry needed, and making sure that everything would go perfectly.

The first night of their lessons, Harry found that their room has changed when he went to sleep. Gone were their chairs, coffee table, and fireplace. Instead, it was replaced by a clear area with four realistic dummies in each corner. “Welcome Harry, to your first lesson,” Tom said. “I’ve decided to redecorate in order to make it more functional…”

“What am I learning?” Harry asked.

“Your first Dark Spell, Harry,” Tom chuckled. “One of the most powerful ones…a dangerous one… you have committed to learning the art, and have agreed to become mine. And so you are mine to teach as I see fit.”

Harry felt a shiver of anticipation run down him. Tom chuckled at this. “And we will begin with you plunging into the Dark Arts… with the Imperious Curse.”

“The Imperious Curse?” Harry repeated.

“Yes,” Tom said. “It is one of three Unforgivable Curses. This one, Harry, gives you control over your target. Complete control. They cannot resist, and will do your every biding… however, I feel for you to understand, it would be better for you to feel the effects of this one. This will be the only Unforgivable Curse I’ll use on you Harry, for it causes the least harm.”

“Okay…” Harry said a little hesitantly.

“Your wand, please,” Tom said, holding his hand out. Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and gave it to Tom willingly. He took a step back and waited. Tom pointed his wand at Harry and said, “ _Imperio.”_ It was a wonderful feeling. Harry felt as though he was floating, as though every thought and worry was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of Tom watching him. A voice, smooth and gentle, echoed in the back of his mind. _“Jump up and down.”_ Harry’s legs started to move, bending down, and soon he was jumping in front of Tom.

The spell ended, and Harry felt suddenly embarrassed that he was jumping like a loon in front of Tom. “I… I felt like I had nothing to think or worry about,” Harry explained.

“Good, that is how a successful Imperius Curse feels like… they lose control while you have it,” Tom said. “No fancy movements or flicks. Just a direct aim and the incantation… Practice it.” Harry nodded. Tom gave him his wand back and Harry immediately aimed it at Tom. Tom smirked and gave a short nod. “Imperio!” Harry shouted.”

“Correct pronunciation, but nothing happened,” Tom chuckled. “You are too weak for now Harry. But that will change. Now around us are four targets. They each will act realistically. You are to make them do your bidding. Start with having them jump. They each will require the same power as a person. You’ll practice until I tell you to stop. Ready? Begin.” Harry spent the rest of the night casting the curse on the dummies and continued on for the rest of the month.

Classes began again, and life slowly gotten a balance between his day life and nightly lessons with Tom. Every night he closed his eyes to sleep only to wake up back in that room and spent the nights working on the Curse, each time Harry getting closer to perfection.

January was dying when Tom deemed they were ready. “Aim at me,” he commanded. Harry did not hesitate. He aimed his wand with confidence at Tom and yelled out, “ _Imperio!_ ” His spell hit Tom, and Harry saw as Tom’s eyes gotten a glazed, relaxed look for a moment that lasted a few minutes before returning to normal.

“Perfect,” Tom smirked. “You were able to keep me under for a couple minutes… a regular witch or wizard will not be able to break it.”

A surge of joy sprung through Harry at those words. He leapt towards Tom and hugged him tightly before stepping away. “So,” he said, “when are we doing this?”

“Tomorrow,” Tom said. “The sooner I can get out of my book, the better. There are just a few more little items we need to collect. First, we will need some blood to write a message on the wall, the message will be written by Tracey Davis obviously… it will be akin to signing their own death certificate.”

“However… umm before that,” Harry interrupted, “I think it would be better to get the password to Slytherin’s Common room… that way I can actually get to Davis. We use some blood in potions… I can borrow her Potions Kit and have that.”

“And excellent idea Harry,” Tom said, looking at Harry with a proud look. Harry smiled softly at that. “Do you have a plan to get it?” Harry thought for a moment before nodding. “Good, then it is up to you. Get the password, sneak into the common room, use the Imperius Curse on Ms. Davis, and lead her to the Chamber after writing the message. After that, it shall be my turn.”

“What exactly… are you going to do?” Harry asked.

“Up to now, my pet, I have been gathering energy from you, for this, I will use your energy in order to form like I have a month ago during your little… hysteria moment,” Tom said. Harry frowned, giving the teen a glare but said nothing. “I will use that energy to form myself out of the diary again. Though temporary, it will be sufficient for our needs…”

“Will… will whatever you do be painful?” Harry asked.

“Would knowing make you hesitant?” Tom asked. Harry didn’t know how to answer. His heart and stomach both felt as though they were on a boat with a storm approaching fast. Tom took this silence as an answer and continued on. “If you wish, you may walk away during that particular part of our plan. It won’t be loud; however, you will feel it.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. He felt hesitant, but knew that there was no backing out. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “Can I repeat what I have to do? Just to make sure I got it?” he asked. Tom nodded. “I have to get the password from Blaise and use the Imperius Curse on Tracey Davis… using the blood we use in Potions, she’s going to write a message… and then go into the Chamber of Secrets where you’ll… you’ll…” Harry was finding it difficult to find the words. His body started to shake slightly, his lips trembled.

“She will die, yes,” Tom said.

“Will… will this make me a murderer?” Harry asked.

Tom didn’t answer.

“Will this make me a murderer?” Harry repeated again. “Tom.”

“Does it matter?” Tom asked, giving a cold, uncaring gaze to Harry. Before he could argue, however, Harry felt a sharp tug at the base of his navel. Darkness overtook him and, after a moment, he woke up in his bed.

He laid in his bed. His eyes closed shut Harry forced himself to take several breaths. _I’m not a murderer, I’m not a murderer, I’m not a murderer,_ he chanted over and over in his mind. _Tom is the murderer… Tom is… nobody will miss her anyway. I’m just the delivery boy._ Harry kept thinking to himself for five minutes, convincing himself that he wasn’t the murderer in this. _I’ll be the hero! Yeah… after Tom is done I’ll bring her body back and the diary. That way it can be like she did it under Tom’s influence…_ With his alterations in mind, Harry finally found the energy to get out of bed and get ready for the day.

It was a weekday, and Harry had classes. He wasn’t able to speak with Blaise first thing in the morning like he wanted, he had to wait until their free period in order to find him in the library, working on an essay for Professor Snape. “Harry,” he smiled.

“Hi Blaise,” Harry said softly. “Umm, I need to talk with you about something important…”

“Sure Harry, what’s the matter?” Blaise asked.

Harry was impressed with himself as it took the time of him sitting down to come up with an impressive lie. “It’s Oliver… Oliver Wood. You know how I told you about the strange looks he’d been giving me? The way he talked about how our gayness is weird and made me feel bad about it early on?”

“Yeah… did he do something?” Blaise asked, reaching out to touch Harry’s hand. Harry took it and held it tightly.

“No… but he’s making me very uncomfortable,” Harry said. “His looks… his glares… and I can’t exactly tell anyone about it cause it’s always in secret, you know. There’s no one there to listen or believe me because… because I don’t feel like I’m ready to tell others that I’m gay. Not because I’m ashamed but because of the uncomfortable feeling Oliver is giving me…” Harry frowned, and made himself look pitiful. “Sometimes I wish I can just run to you, you know, just run away and talk with you because, and I’m completely honest when I say this Blaise, I feel better when I talk with you. It’s like… you make all the bad feelings disappear.”

“When does this happen?” Blaise asked. “When does Oliver approach you like this?”

“At night usually when I’m about to go to bed,” Harry said.

Blaise thought for a moment. “You have an Invisibility Cloak right, I heard about it.”

“Yeah, it used to belong to my father,” Harry nodded.

“Okay then… if you ever feel overwhelmed come to me, okay Harry?” Blaise said. “You know where my common room is, right?” Harry nodded. “Good. …The password currently is Dragon’s Liver. It just changed. Come to me and we’ll sleep in my bed.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. “And Blaise… the same is open for you too, you know. I don’t know if anyone knows you’re gay or not but… if you need to just get away from them, Gryffindor Tower is on the seventh floor right hand corridor. The entrance is behind a portrait of a fat lady. The password is Wattlebird.”

“Okay,” Blaise said. He gave Harry a quick smile and looked around before giving him a quick kiss. Harry returned it and bit his bottom lip.

“I’m a good person, right?” he asked out of the blue.

“I—yeah, of course you are Harry,” Blaise said. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

Harry frowned. “It’s just been on my mind lately… there are these… things that I’ve been doing. Things I don’t want anybody to know about Blaise.”

“You know your secrets are safe with me, Harry,” Blaise said.

“I know that,” Harry smiled. “But… I’m also scared to tell you about it Blaise… at least not yet.”

“Are you in danger?” Blaise asked.

“I don’t know… maybe? It’s about a boy to be honest…” Harry said. “He said he could… teach me things. And I’m scared, not because of him, but because I want to learn the things from him… even if some of it might not be very nice.” He looked hesitant. Biting his bottom lip, he looked at Blaise and sighed, “I just wish I could have a normal life, you know. Where I can just grow up like everyone else and fall in love.”

“You can,” Blaise said. “And if this boy turns out wrong I’ll… I’ll hex him so much that his feet will turn into goose feathers for an entire month!” Blaise said with a childish confidence that made Harry laugh. They hugged and Harry found his lips connecting with Blaise again in a brief, childish kiss. “You know,” Harry whispered, wanting to break the tension, “I think we might be too young to kiss… it feels a little weird even though I like it.”

“Me too,” Blaise chuckled. “Want to try again when we’re teenagers?”

“Alright,” Harry smiled, glad that the tense part of their talk was over, and what he thought was the hardest part of his plan was done. He just wanted to be with his friend for as long as he could, so after a while they started to do their homework together, Harry interrupting with mocking voices of Professor Snape that made Blaise laugh.

“How’s Hermione, by the way?” he asked. “Is she—”

“She’s not petrified, it’s just that she got really sick during the break,” Harry said. “Ron and I bring her, her homework every evening and tell her the best about what she missed. …Of course, that’s not a lot at times especially with History of Magic because I always fall asleep in there.” They both laughed. “But Madam Pomfrey told us that she should be ready to leave sometime soon.”

“That’s good to hear,” Blaise smiled. Harry nodded and looked around for a bit.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “if what I said early about the boy make you feel uncomfortable… I don’t know—”

“Harry, stop,” Blaise said with a wisdom pass his age. “You don’t need to worry about that. All I see you as is one my closest friends and, honestly, I think that’s what we both need right now.” Harry nodded in agreement and smiled. They heard the ringing of a clock echoing through the library and Blaise checked his watch. “It’s that time—Harry, we should get going!”

“Oh, right,” Harry jumped out of his seat. He still felt nervous about what he was going to do, the hesitant guilt about his following actions looming over him like a specter that wouldn’t quit. However, knowing that he would always have Blaise with him, that he’ll have a friend who will never stop supporting him, filled Harry with a renewed vigor to see his dark task done tonight.

It was getting close to curfew when Harry went out under the protection of his Invisibility Cloak. He had Tom’s diary with him, held close in his inner robe pocket, and his wand was constantly in his hand as he snuck out, maneuvering between the older years, using a couple walking in to get out of the common room.

“The password is Dragon’s Liver,” Harry whispered to himself as he started to slowly making his way down towards the dungeons, taking extra caution to take passageways that were empty. Even though he was invisible, he did not want to risk the cloak slipping off at the wrong moment. He gotten lost for a moment or two, but as the moon was raising over Hogwarts, Harry found his way to the entrance hall, and went down to the dungeons.

Nobody was there, it was cold and damp as always. He could feel the dungeons rejecting him like last time, however Harry walked with a purpose. He slowed a little to remember which corridors he needed to turn. He got lost again for a couple minutes, the dungeons leading him the wrong way, however before he knew it, and was ready, he was at a dead end where he remembered the entrance being. He faced the stone wall and said clearly, _“Dragon’s Liver.”_ The wall shook, bricks moving away from one another revealing an archway.

Harry went through the archway and into the Slytherin Common room, looking the same just as it was when he and Ron were disguised as Crabbe and Goyle. He saw Blaise with Malfoy and a few other boys gathered by the fireplace and smiled at him. It was very easy to find Tracey Davis. She was by herself in a corner, sitting as though the entire world forgot she existed.

Harry had pity for her, and in that pity he hoped that whatever Tom was going to do would be painless, and that she was off to a better place.

He snuck towards her and went around to her back. His wand poking out of the Invisibility Cloak to get a good aim, Harry whispered, _“Imperio.”_

Tracey gotten a dazed, relax look and she slumped slightly in her chair. _“Get up and go to your room. Gather all the blood vials you can and come out of Slytherin’s common room,”_ Harry commanded softly, whispering in her ear. Davis stood up automatically and, moving quite calmly, went to do as she was told as Harry watched, satisfied. He watched Davis walk up a pair of stairs and had to wait for her to come back. He looked over at Blaise, still siting with Draco, and felt a hint of curiosity. He walked towards them but stopped. _I shouldn’t distract myself,_ he thought, though his eyes never left his friend as he and Malfoy seemed to close some books and stood up. Harry watched as they, as a group, left for bed, never looking or even noticing Tracey Davis as she walked back into the common room.

Harry followed her towards the archway, which now had a door, and looked back over his shoulder. _Aren’t they going to ask her where she’s going? Or try to stop her?_ He wondered to himself, but the surrounding Slytherins never said a word as Tracey Davis continued her walk towards her untimely end.

The door opened and both of them slipped out. Harry watched as the stone wall closed behind them as though the archway never existed, showing no evidence. He looked back at the girl under his control and whispered again in her ear, _“Go to the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. On the wall where Mrs. Norris was hung, you will write in blood, ‘Her Skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.’ Afterwards, go into the girl’s bathroom.”_ And so Harry’s commands became Tracey Davis’s will.

The two walked together in silence. Tracey Davis having a relaxed, unfocused look on her face while Harry was hidden under his cloak. He felt his emotions dulling with each step. His hesitation dying, but being replaced by nothing. He wasn’t scared by that feeling, even though he knew in the back of his mind that he should be. Yet as they moved closer and closer to the second floor, and more and more of his emotions were dulled and swept away… Harry found that he couldn’t feel any empathy for the girl walking unwillingly with him.

Half of him wanted them to get caught, for a prefect or teacher or ghost to walk around a corner and see Tracey Davis climbing the way towards her death, maybe stop her, snap her out… but that never happened. They’ve reached the second floor without incident and reached the wall where Mrs. Norris was hung by Ginny a few months prior. Still under the Cloak, Harry watched as Tracey Davis pulled out vials of blood and opened them, using her finger to write out the message he told her too, dropping the vial when it was empty and moving on to the next. When she was done, the message glimmered in the torch light, a small pile of broken shards laying underneath.

Together, Harry and Tracey went into the girl’s bathroom. “What are you doing here?” Moaning Myrtle demanded. She was sitting on top of a stall door, looking as though she had recently finished crying. _“Make her leave,”_ Harry hissed.

“None of your business, you disgusting death sloth,” Tracey Davis sneered.

“What did you call me?” Myrtle sniffed, Harry could see that she was about to cry again.

“Just go away,” Davis said, and Myrtle was too easily pushed over the edge. With a loud wail, she floated into the air and disappeared into the stall. Her cries grew distant and muffled as she fled down the plumping. With the ghost out of the way, Harry went to the sink with the snake engraved in the facet. _“Open,”_ he hissed. The sink shook and moved away, sinking into the floor to reveal the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Harry threw off his cloak, and threw it to the side, making it look as though he did so in a rush, and turned to Tracey Davis.

She still had an unfocused look, however her eyes opened slightly in shocked. Harry said nothing as he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the pipe, pushing her in. He watched as she disappeared into the darkness before jumping in himself. It was now all too familiar now, however it still felt strange and new as this time, he was the one in control. At the end of the long sliding tunnel, Harry made Davis stand up and together they walked down the damp, cold corridor, Harry’s eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“It’s almost up,” Harry said hauntingly, his voice shaking. “Your life… I’m so sorry. But you were the perfect choice… nobody would miss you, nobody even knows you… it’s like you’re just a decoration hanging on the wall just waiting to be useful. I’ll admit, I’m scared. Just knowing that you don’t even have ten minutes… five minutes left… it scares me so much and yet… my body is tensing with a dark excitement if that makes sense, my fingers are prickly, my toes feel like they’re sparking with electricity… do you even understand what I am saying?” He asked, looking at the girl’s unfocused face. There was no fear in her eyes, no emotions, it was as though she wasn’t there at all, she was too busy drowning in a vague happiness that she’ll never be out of. “If you… err If you have any last words… you know… things that you’d want to say to your parents. I’ll make sure they’ll get them.”

She remained quiet.

“Anything… really, just talk!” Harry said, swiftly frustrated. “Don’t you understand? You’re going to die as soon as we go through that door!”

“Don’t do this,” Davis said, her voice monotone, her dazed eyes looking at Harry. “Don’t do this, Potter.”

“I need to,” Harry said. “This is the only way the Dark Lord can die—I need to do this.”

Tracey Davis was silent. She looked for a brief moment that she wanted to say something, but any hint of that was quickly washed away before Harry could register it. They reached the doors with the twin snakes and Harry stopped.

He hesitated again, his dullen feelings fighting to come back. “This is your last change,” he said. “Seriously… once we go through that door you will die. Tom will be here but… you will be dead. I don’t know if it’ll be painful or swift so please… if you have last words, anything, just tell me. I command you to tell me!”

“Don’t kill me Potter, I don’t deserve it,” Tracey Davis said, there was a hint of fear in her voice, though Harry knew that was because of his command. “Use a mudblood instead! They’re more useless than me!”

Harry frowned. He hoped for some loving message to her parents, some regret on things she had done… not the hate that has been instilled into her. His feelings fading away, he turned to the door and said with a sense of fatal finally, _“Open.”_

The twin snakes slithered away, their emerald eyes gazing at the two of them and the door swung open by itself. The two walked into the Chamber of Secrets. They made it to the opening platform where the large statue of Salazar Slytherin stood before them when the wind began to pick up. Harry squinted and Tracey Davis fainted. Harry spun on his feet and saw Tom standing there in front of him.

“Good job Harry, I shall take it from here,” he said. “Place my diary next to her body.” Harry pulled Tom’s diary out and glanced down at Tracey Davis.

“Will it hurt her?” he asked.

“I think it is too late to think of such things, Harry,” Tom said. He stepped through Harry and gazed down at Davis. “If you wish to wait outside, now would be the time to leave.” Harry didn’t need to be told twice.

“I’m sorry… but I can’t watch this,” he said. Tom nodded. “Then I will come to the door when I am done, you’ll hear nothing, do not worry pet.” Harry nodded and turned to quickly make his way back to the stone door, which closed behind him heavily.

Harry waited. Time moved slowly without him knowing. He barely moved. Sometimes he wanted to press his ear against the stone to try and hear something, anything to break the unending silence in the dark tunnel, but every time he came near the door he froze and turned away. Mute minutes ticked away into silent hours. Harry’s stomach felt heavy with a feeling he couldn’t understand. He felt anxious and scared, in his mind he kept going over the morals of what he had just done. It was one thing, he thought, to simply plan and talk about doing this terrible deed, but another to actually do it.

 _But it was for a good cause, a greater cause,_ he told himself. _With her sacrifice, I can learn from Tom, right? I need to learn how to fight Voldemort and this is the only way. …Right?_

He didn’t have an answer, however, as silent responded. He turned to the door again, the twin snakes back in their original holdings, their emerald eyes staring blankly at Harry. He walked towards them again and stopped just a hair’s breadth away. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes before pushing his head against the cold stone door. His ear stung at the hard cold surface and he tried to focus, but still, as Tom promised, he could not hear a thing.

Suddenly the door burst opened and Harry jumped back. “It is done,” Tom’s voice said… however he sounded younger than what Harry remembered.

Tom was still taller than Harry, however he no longer looked to be a seventeen year old. Instead he looked to be a boy just on the cusp of puberty. He has the same features that Harry was familiar with, his black hair perfectly in place and dark eyes staring at him with a mysterious glint. “I’ve decided it would be better if I appear to be your age, Harry,” Tom explained.

“Where… where is Davis?” Harry asked.

“Come, I’ll show you,” Tom said, holding out his hand. Harry took it and the two walked back into the Chamber of Secrets. In there, Harry gasped.

At the foot of the statue, its body half lying in the pool, was the basilisk. It’s eyes were shut and mouth hanging open with blood dripping from one corner. It was undoubtedly dead. And next to the gigantic snake, her body in pristine condition, was Tracey Davis. Her skin looked dulled, faded, as though all life has been sucked out of her. The diary was right where Harry left it. “What did you…”

“If you’d stayed, you would have known,” Tom said simply. “For now, just know that the Basilisk and Davis are dead, and my diary useless.”

“Useless?” Harry asked.

Tom nodded, “Yes, look at it yourself. Every part of me that was trapped in there, my soul and memories, myself… are gone. I don’t need it anymore.”

Harry walked slowly towards the dairy and picked it up carefully. It felt cold, somehow dead in his hand. He flipped through the pages but only saw his first entries. Glancing back at Tom, he asked, “Why did you keep these?”

“Because you asked during that time to use it as just a regular diary, my sweet,” Tom answered. “I figured you still want to use it as such.”

Harry nodded and looked back at it. He reread what he wrote and bit his bottom lip. “I actually have a use for it,” he said. “But you are going to hate it.”

“Oh? And what exactly are you going to do, Harry?” Tom asked. Harry surprised himself but looking back at Tom, smiling. “I’m going to be a hero,” he said. He ripped out the pages he wrote on and let them drop to the floor. Tom remained silent as Harry went to the basilisk with the notebook. Examining the snake’s fangs, He bundled his robe into his hand and used it to cover his skin as he pulled out a large fang that looked as though it still might drip with poison. Kneeling down, he stabbed the diary methodically, driving it deep so the fang’s poison leaked from the pages like blood. When he was done, the diary looked nigh recognizable or useable. It’s pages were soaked with the snake’s poison and blood, the fang was stuck piercing right through it. Harry was panting slightly as he stood up, holding the ruined diary.

“Tom… Marvolo Riddle,” Harry said between breaths, “I think we’ll need a new diary… and you a new name.”

“My thoughts exactly Harry, now, what will you do with that diary?” Tom asked.

“Tell Dumbledore the truth,” Harry said simply. “I was using my invisibility cloak to sneak down to the kitchen and hospital wing to visit Hermione with some cookies… that was when I saw Tracey Davis walking around looking funny. I watched her write the message on the wall and into the girl’s bathroom. I waited for her to come out but when she didn’t, I walked in to see that the bathroom was empty except for the opening to the Chamber of Secrets. I followed the tunnel until I reached this room… where I found Davis dead and you almost resurrected. We fought, I killed the basilisk, and using its fang I destroyed your diary, which killed you before you can become whole. However, I was unable to save Davis.”

Tom laughed. “And Harry Potter once again stands as the hero beating the Dark Lord! I must say Harry… your imagination is very creative.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah… but that means you’ll need a new identity. You can’t go around calling yourself Tom Riddle, can you?”

Tom chuckled, “No, I cannot… and I also need a House. Slytherin would be too obvious for me to hide in, I believe… and as much as I care for my pet, I would rather die than become a Gryffindor… I believe I’ll give Ravenclaw a go.”

“How are you going to do that?” Harry asked.

“You have no need to worry my sweet, your Master will take care of that,” Tom said with a high tone of authority. Harry blushed slightly. “For now, I suggest we get out of here. I’ll get her shoulders if you can get her legs.”

Together the two lifted Davis’s body and carried her out of the Chamber. It was a slow work and when they finally reached Myrtle’s bathroom again, Harry was drenched in sweat. “Use the Cloak to hide,” Harry said. “Can you do what you need to do while I do this?” Harry asked.

“Yes, of course,” Tom said. He dropped Davis’s body unceremoniously and hid under the Invisibility Cloak. Harry waited a moment, dragging Tracey Davis as far as he could, before screaming, “HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME HERE! SHE’S DEAD!”

The portraits all awoke with a start, there was yelling all around Harry as the portraits’ occupants all scrambled to see what the screaming was about. Ghosts rushed in and Harry yelled at them to get the teachers and Dumbledore. He kept yelling for help until he could hear the rush of footsteps as, like a stampede, all the staff of Hogwarts ran to the corridor. “Professor Dumbledore! Help!” Harry cried out. Dumbledore and McGonagall broke from the group to get to Harry and Davis.

“Was it another attack Potter? What are you doing out so late?” Professor McGonagall asked. She separated Harry from the body while Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey examined Davis.

“She’s dead,” Madam Pomfrey said somberly. “What happened?”

“I saw her go in the bathroom—she looked weird like something was off so I followed her—her hand looked like it was red and that was when I noticed that,” Harry said shakily, pointing to the message on the wall. The teachers looked at the wall and there was a collective gasp. “She was the one, Professor,” Harry said, looking at Professor Dumbledore. “But… she was under the influence of this…” he pulled out Tom’s destroyed diary and handed it to Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked at the diary for a moment before giving it back to Harry. “I would like for you to tell me everything that happened Harry, however, I believe my office would be a much better setting than this. Professor McGonagall, if you would please escort Harry there? And Harry, on my desk there is a cup full of lemon drops, you are free to have some while you wait, I find that they are quite calming in certain situations.”

Harry waited half an hour in Dumbledore’s office, sucking on lemon drops as he did so, trying his best to calm his nerves. On Dumbledore’s desk, he placed Tom’s dairy, the mix of basilisk blood and poison surprisingly drying fast. When Professor Dumbledore walked in, he was silent for some time as he sat down and regarded Harry. “First, I do not want you to blame yourself Harry,” he began. “You have done all you could to save Ms. Davis… We have reached out to her parents and informed them on what has happened. However, before they arrive, I would like to hear from you on the events that happened in the Chamber of Secrets.”

Harry nodded and told Dumbledore the story he and Tom made up down in the Chamber. Of his want to sneak sweets to his friend in the hospital wing to trailing Davis when he caught sight of her odd movements and dazed look, all the way to fighting the basilisk and somehow killing it by use of luck and cunning. “I didn’t know what I was doing Sir… I’ve just fired my spells blindly and I guess one of them hit the basilisk in the eye and it smashed against a pillar which crushed it’s head,” he explained in detail. He spoke for a quarter of an hour, his voice growing hoarse as his tale spun in complexity, adding the voices he heard from the walls, and his own knowledge of the basilisk, which he of course learned from Tom. When he was done, he found his tongue was heavy and he was extremely tired.

“I see… then you have met Lord Voldemort once again, and once again Harry, you have shown great courage and tenacity in battling him,” Dumbledore said, looking down at the diary with great interest. “The school owes you a debt of gratitude for all you have done. As such, Harry, you shall receive a Special Award for Services to the School… as well as two hundred points for Gryffindor. However, I am very curious, indeed, to how the diary came to be here…”

“I don’t know, sir,” Harry said. “Even if I tried to look in it, I’m not sure if I can read… the fang is stuck very deep inside.”

“I see… however for now all we need to know is that it is destroyed, Harry, and you have done your best,” Dumbledore said gently. “I am sure that Davis’ parents would be wanting to thank you for your efforts… you should not worry about that now, though. For now, all you need is sleep, it is rather late.”

“Thank you sir,” Harry nodded. He got up and crossed to the door. “Harry, permit me for one more question,” Dumbledore said.

“Yes sir?” Harry asked, turning around.

“Where is your Invisibility Cloak?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Oh—oh I must have left it in the girl’s bathroom!” Harry said with some shock.

Dumbledore smiled ruefully, “Then you should go and get it before you fall asleep then. It is a dangerous thing to leave about… and promise that you would only use it for late night raids to the kitchens.”

“I—yes sir,” Harry nodded, and he left the office quickly. He was halfway towards Gryffindor Tower when Tom appeared out of nowhere in front of him. “There you are,” Harry said, glancing around. “Did you do it?”

“It was a simple task for me,” Tom chuckled. “It seemed with my new life, I have gained more magic than I could possibly imagine.” He took a step forward and wrapped a possessive arm around Harry’s body. “You, my pet, are looking at your Master, Thomas Blackthorn. A Ravenclaw that is in your year.”

Harry smiled and hugged Tom. “There’s no suspicion Tom,” he said. “I think it went off flawlessly.”

“Of course, it is my pet,” Tom said. He kissed Harry’s cheek, which surprised Harry. He looked up at Tom who smirked down at him. “You remind me of Adrian, but I care for you as a person Harry,” Tom said with a sudden warmth Harry didn’t know possible. “We have a long and arduous journey ahead of us, one that I would like to take as boyfriends.”

“B-boyfriends?” Harry asked softly.

“Yes, there are many things I need to teach you my pet, and it would be better to teach them to you as both your Master and boyfriend,” Tom said. “I know you have feelings for me…” He gave a soft chuckle and held Harry’s face gently.

“I… yes,” Harry found himself saying. Their lips met and Harry felt whole. It wasn’t awkward and clumsy as his kisses with Blaise. It was precise, Tom knew what he was doing, and he took charge, which Harry gladly allowed him to. The two kissed for some time before parting. Harry’s face was blushed, and his lips were bruised slightly, puffed out in a satisfying way.

“Then I will see you in the morning Harry,” Tom smiled. “A new day in our new lives.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Goodnight… Master.”


	10. Beginning of Light's End

Ch. 10

Beginning of Light’s End

The public brought Harry’s story all too easily. Any thought of him as the Heir of Slytherin was gone overnight and rumors and talks of Tracey Davis instead took over, every student saying that they always knew it was her all along, how she was so quiet and by herself, never having any friends. Everybody was so distracted by the sudden end of the Heir’s threat, that nobody recognized that Ravenclaw had a new member. Young Tom Riddle, going under Thomas Blackthorn, integrated himself seamlessly into the House, acting and interacting as though he had always been there since September of last year. He and Harry met up, obviously, for secret dates and meetings. Both agreeing to let Harry’s friends know when they are older, perhaps next year or the year after that.

With summer coming near, Harry worried about where Tom was going to live. The young Lord didn’t say anything but gave a sly smile and wink and he said, “Do not worry, I have a house or two to inherit… a place that will be a marvelous place for a Master and his pet, and another that is perfect for hiding all that we really are.”

Harry had a feeling that he wasn’t supposed to ask for anymore details, so he kept it there and sadly returned to the Dursleys. But not before making all his friends promise to write to him, including Blaise, as well as picking up a blank new diary. For while he no longer had Tom to talk to in the book, he rather liked the activity.

And with that, time went on, and with time, a brief examination of a few of Harry’s entries in his diary are necessary to keep up with later events.

_August 8 th_

_At the Leaky Cauldron, still cannot believe that I’m away from the Dursleys. Somehow, Tom knew about this as he arrived today and moved into my room. I asked how he knew I was at Diagon Alley, and he replied with, “I simply had a dream of your prettiness flying across the air towards here.” In other words, I think he might have been secretly watching me somehow. I hope he actually had a place to sleep while I was at Privet Drive. Anyway, we’re sharing a bed now and just talk about what we can do during the summer as it looks like it’ll be us together. He wants to go to Knockturn Alley obviously, while honestly, I want to look around for clothes and ice cream. It’s not that I dislike the robes and other wizard clothing but they are so weird looking. I honestly cannot comprehend how people can seriously and honestly wear them! Tom may not like it but I will be damned if I do not bring him to look for a good pair of pants and shirt. I found a part of Gringotts where I can exchange money. I might use that later on._

_August 15 th_

_We had a great day! In the morning, I’ve convinced Tom to come to the muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron with me to go clothes shopping. I’ve gotten both of us some nice clothes that should fit us for a couple of years, I still cannot believe these wizards would actually walk around dressed in all these strange robes and hats! Tom was hesitant at first and it took me dragging him into a changing room to figure out why. He hates being average, being common place. I guess I can see that in some extent. After all, he did throw away his name… not going to think about it. It’s hard, keeping them separate, Tom and Voldemort, but I have to. I don’t want to get my feelings confused. I like Tom, I like him a lot… he’s a very good boyfriend to me. I just wish that he would let me in more._

_August 20 th_

_We’ve practiced more on the Unforgivable Curses today. I do not want to get rusty on the Imperius Curse. I’m very good at it, and I have to say that I am starting to like being under it when Tom uses it on me. It’s strange being under it, having this just very happy feeling of bliss and no restrictions or duties. Just a simple mind and listening to Tom. It’s nice at times. I wonder if prolonged influence can reduce your intelligence. I hope not. Anyway, while I was under it, something very strange happened with my pants. My prick’s gotten hard! Tom told me that it was normal but I don’t know, it’s so strange having it hard in front of him. Is this what puberty is? If so will I get bigger or will it stay at that size?_

_August 31 st_

_Ron and Hermione are here! And they’ve met Tom as my boyfriend! I was so scared, Hermione gotten this strange look on her face and I thought she was going to be like Oliver, but instead she was just being her old self and started asking questions. Ron was surprising as he answered some of them before I could think of them. Apparently, Charlie and George are like Tom and me… well, as in that they like boys not that—never mind. Anyway, we brought out school books and Tom and I defected to have a romantic night out. He wore some of the nicer clothes I brought to make him stand out from the crowd, and it was obvious that he loved it. We went to this nice café and spent it in a corner. There were looks, a lot of strange looks, but I was able to ignore them as Tom just held my hand the entire night and we talked about anything. He told me he had big plans for our school year. I wonder what’s going to happen. He’s so mysterious at times, sometimes I think he does it for a show and others I feel like he does it because he doesn’t want to share something with me. I just don’t know what. I know his most awful secret already… don’t I?_

_I don’t know, however I do know that I’ll stick by him no matter what. After all, not only is he my boyfriend…_

_He’s also my Master as well._

_September 1 st_

_I still don’t know what happened. Something attacked the train. I should try and write down as much as I can remember. There were a few of us in the compartment. Myself, Tom, Ron, Hermione, and our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Professor Lupin. Only thing was Professor Lupin was fast asleep. He was a strange and ragged looking man. His robes looked old, torn at places, and his briefcase was battered. He reminded me of a homeless person, or someone who looked terribly ill. He was unconscious, or seemed like it, while the rest of us were talking. We were almost at Hogwarts when it happened. It became colder, the windows started to look frosted and the train screeched to a halt, something that never happened. The lights started to flicker and suddenly the door opened. I only had a glimpse of the creature once, but it was enough to know that it was absolutely terrifying. Hidden behind a cloak that was tattered with long skeletal limbs I heard an unearthly noise that was like a deep rattle of a voice before I collapsed, the last thing I remembered was hearing a woman screaming my name._

_When I woke up… all I could see was everyone’s faces, I’ve somehow been moved from the floor. I felt empty both before and after I fell, like I was never to be happy again. Professor Lupin gave all of us chocolate, and surprisingly at the first bite I instantly felt better again! He left to check on the conductor and Tom told me about what that thing was._

_It was a Dementor. A dark creature that feeds on happiness until there’s nothing left inside you. They’re the guard at Azkaban, and they’re here because of an escapee: Sirius Black. Professor Lupin warded them off, but we have to be careful. Dumbledore echoed Tom’s words later on in the Great Hall after our feast. They were the Minister’s idea, something that I guess Dumbledore is not very fond of._

_I hope they don’t catch on or bother us. After all, Tom and I are Dark Wizards, right? So, we should be careful with our lessons, especially since they no longer can take place at night. Last year, we’ve kept them sparse and running around from classroom to classroom. I hope that we can find a consistent place this year, I know that Tom’s already looking._

_This year looks to be a weird one with the dementors roaming around. I just hope that they won’t go near us._

_September 8 th_

_Tom found a place. It’s an old classroom near Ravenclaw Tower that none of the teachers use it. Tom told me that the Ravenclaws use it to hook up sometimes. Whenever we have our lessons, we can talk it off as us meeting up to spend some time together. It had a heavy smell to it, like sweat and something else, but I don’t care. As long as we have a place to meet, I’m happy. We’ve continued our lessons, he seemed pretty interested in me mastering the Unforgivable Curses and… I would be lying if I said I wasn’t thrilled. The power these spells have… it’s amazing. I wanted more… I need more. I want to hold that power again. I don’t know but it feels like something inside me is changing, and I’m completely open to it._

_September 20 th_

_Tom and I worked more on the Dark Arts today. He has me using the Killing Curse on bugs he’d found around the castle. I’m getting good at it. However, I know that the spell will be harder to do with more complex targets… at least according to Tom. Other than that, life is normal. Just as every day. People are talking about Hogsmeade, which only makes me more jealous that I cannot go. Stupid Dursleys… it’s not my fault that Aunt Marge is a stupid fat cow. Should have used the Imperious Curse to get their signature. Oh well. I just hope that Tom stays with me during that weekend, I would hate being alone._

_October 15 th_

_First Hogsmeade weekend was announced, it’s on Halloween. Tom and I hung out in the Gryffindor common room and moved to our classroom to practice. I killed a rat! Was scared for a second thinking it was Scabbers, thankfully it wasn’t._

_October 31 st_

_First Hogsmeade trip, Tom stayed with me and we continued working on the Dark Arts. The good news is that I’m an expert at killing rats. The bad news is that Tom and I are stuck at how to advance with the killing curse. In the meantime, I’m learning more different spells of the Dark Arts and it’s hard. I can barely perform any of the spells Tom shown me, but I want to! I have to try harder, and I will!_

_November 8 th_

_Missed yesterday. I was in the Hospital Wing. We had a Quidditch match yesterday, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Weather was shite but I still played. We would have won too if it wasn’t for the dementors. They affected me again. I blacked out and fell from my broom. Dumbledore saved me from my fall, however he was unable to save my broom, which was smashed to bits by the Whomping Willow. I’m devastated about that, however I’m more frustrated about those dementors. Why am I the only one being affected like so? Why is it that I’m the only one blacking out and have to hear that woman’s voice screaming? It’s infuriating! Dumbledore’s pissed too, the dementors aren’t supposed to be that close to the school grounds. I just wished they would just go away._

_November 20 th_

_Tom and I sneaked a rooster into the Forbidden Forest and I killed it. I’m so sorry Hagrid, but I need the practice._

_November 22th_

_Was found by a deer during our practicing. Tom wanted me to try the Killing Curse on it, but it didn’t work. He told me that anger and hatred powers but for some reason I couldn’t bring that up against the deer like I could with anything else. The worst I did was hurt it. Afterwards, Tom and I made out in the woods and we tried something. We took our shirts off and touched our bodies. Felt good._

_December 20 th_

_Fred and George gave me something called the Marauder’s Map. It shows where everyone in the castle is as well as secret passages, some of them leading out of Hogwarts. I used it to sneak out into Hogsmeade, brilliant place. Spent the day with Ron and Hermione before spending some time with Blaise. He was a little jealous that I had a boyfriend but confessed that he had his eyes on someone. Whoever he is, I hope he’s good for my friend. He deserves the best… and he’s a good kisser. I’ve learned… I’ve learned a lot about what happened between Sirius Black and my parents. I’ll put it in detail tomorrow._

_January 6 th_

_My lessons with Professor Remus started today. The Patronus Charm, a spell that can knock away dementors. I hope that I can master it quickly. I offered Tom to come learn with me but he told me that he cannot._

_February 5 th_

_Sirius Black broke into Gryffindor Tower and tried to slash Ron! I didn’t see him but Ron’s bed curtains are in shambles. I’m scared for my friend. Especially after what I learned, I want Black dead more than ever._

_February 10 th_

_I killed a deer._

_March 15 th_

_Tom and I were doing more… stuff. He told me about puberty and the kind of things we can do when we’re older. I can’t wait._

_March 27 th_

_Did more practice with Tom, the more I learn the Dark Arts the more I fall in love with it… Tom told me that with my development in the Dark Arts, I should be having more and more trouble with casting the patronus… however I seem to have the same difficulty. I’ve almost done it last time, I’m sure with just a few more lessons I can cast a full Patronus… In the meantime, I’m going to redouble my efforts in the dark arts._

_March 31 st_

_I DID IT! I CASTED A PATRONUS! I’m so happy with myself._

_April 15 th_

_Ron and Hermione and I are still distracted with Buckbeak’s situation. I’m angry, furious, but there’s seemingly nothing we can do. We’re going to spend the entire of Easter break working on his appeal. I hope to save him. Meanwhile, Tom’s thinking of my looks. He wants to know how I would look with different hair. Longer, something more darkish to fit my new status as a Dark Wizard. It might be interesting… I’ll have to think about it, it’ll be a good thing to think about at least while we work through Buckbeak’s appeal._

_May 5 th_

_I DID IT! I USED THE PATRONUS CHARM AND WON THE QUIDDITCH MATCH! Tom and I celebrated our victory and we did more and more things that I can’t even write down without blushing!_

_June 6 th_

_My body hurts, my mind is aching, I do not know how to even comprehend what I’ve done so I’ll lay it down here. I am sorry, future me, if this sounds like the ravings of a mad man in a blue box. Sirius Black is my godfather. Peter Pettigrew is the man who betrayed my parents. Peter Pettigrew was Scabbers. They, my father, and Professor Lupin were all friends. Black and Lupin used to date… Hermione had a time turner that she used to get to all her classes. Buckbeak was killed but we saved her using it. I thought I saw my father performing the Patronus Charm but it was really me from the future. Sirius approves of my relationship with Tom._

_I need to try this again. From the beginning._

_Sirius Black is my godfather, I learned this from the man himself. All year he wanted to get Pettigrew, who was hiding as Scabbers. Pettigrew, a disgusting man who sold my parents to Voldemort. He and Professor Lupin cornered him and captured him after I convinced them not to kill them. Walking out, Sirius and I talked, and I mentioned Tom, who of course missed all this I have to tell him tomorrow, and he joyfully approved it, saying that my parents would be proud that I am being who I really am. However, after that everything went sour. The full moon came out and Professor Lupin shifted. He and Sirius fight, werewolf to giant black dog, and Pettigrew escapes by turning into a rat and running away. Afterwards, Professor Lupin ran into the forest and Sirius almost died from the Dementors. I saved him… and myself. The three of us woke up in the hospital room, Ron, Hermione, and me. Hermione and I used her Time Turner to go back three hours. We were able to save Buckbeak and Sirius, and I was able to fight back a swarm of dementors with a Patronus. It was a physical one—looking like an animal. It was a stag. I wonder what it meant. Anyway, after that we freed Sirius from the astronomy tower, and he flew away on Buckbeak._

_I hope that Sirius is okay, I’m angry that he had to run away with the true traitor is running around unknown and thought dead. He’s probably with Voldemort was I write this. I hope I run into Pettigrew one day. I’ll tie him up and squeeze a confession out of him before I kill him myself. I’ll be good at it too._

_I’m good at killing rats._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new year, and a new part of the story. Next time we see how far into the Dark Arts Harry will fall before jumping back into the action after a very eventful night. I so hope that you leave a review and tell me your thoughts, yes I know I sped through 3rd year but I hope you’ve enjoyed how I did so. Thank you for reading.


	11. Quickening Dangers

Ch. 11

Quickening Dangers

As the present came nearer to the diary entries, it should be noted that Harry Potter’s Fourth Year, of which he was currently in the middle of, was a turning point for both the fledging Dark Wizard and his boyfriend, the Dark Lord Tom Riddle, who was currently under the guise of Thomas Blackthorn. As such, in order to bridge the gap of then and now and soon to be, a further examination of Harry’s meticulous diary entries is required. With hope this shall be the last of our examinations as past and present become, once more, equal.

_August 19 th_

_I missed yesterday. A lot happened. I hate when events like these happen when Tom is not around. He is still by the Riddle Manor, fixing it up to make it livable. However, from the letters he sent me, it seems that he had to hide as Voldemort returned there with the rat. I hope he is safe._

_Anyway, last night was the Quidditch World Cup. However that feels like a lifetime ago. It was Ireland versus Bulgaria, Ireland won but Bulgaria’s seeker, Victor Krum, got the snitch. However that wasn’t what I remember from last night. Death Eaters. Destruction. That’s what I remember. And that emerald skull hanging in the starry night. A crowd of masked men torturing muggles hanging in the air by their wands, laughing and burning tents as they walked. We ran, I wanted to hurt them for what they’ve done to the muggles but I lost my wand in the scramble. I was knocked out, I don’t know what happened, but next thing I knew I saw a man aiming a wand in the air, my wand it turned out, and he casted something called the Dark Mark into the air. It was the large emerald skull with a snake for a tongue. It’s Voldemort’s mark. The Death Eaters seemed to ran away from it, however, and somehow a house elf named Winky came to have my wand._

_She was released from her owner, Barty Crouch, and we were sent home early. I’m back in the Burrow now, everyone is safe, no one is hurt, however I am scared about what this might mean. I have a few ideas however I’ve sent a letter to Tom to confirm. I don’t care if the Dark Lord is in our manor, I need my boyfriend here so we can plan on what to do with him. In the meantime, however, I need sleep._

_August 20 th_

_I got a reply from Tom. It was short and to the point. ‘I can’t leave, I’m learning a lot from the snakes. Be with you as soon as I can. Be Good.’ That bastard! Here I am almost dead and he’s just living right next to our enemy! I know they’re different people, but I swear when I kill the Dark Lord I’ll make sure it hurts extra just to get my frustration out at Tom, Master or no! Anyway, the Prophet is all over this attack, saying that it was drunkards. No word or even thought of Voldemort still being alive. I have a feeling they’re going to ignore his existence to live in a fake peace… could have worded that better._

_I’ve trained today like a good little Dark Wizard. It’s hard keeping it a secret, especially since some spells can be quite flashy and loud. However recently I’ve been practicing the Killing Curse a lot, it works the same if you whisper it or shout it apparently. Which is very helpful but also very scary. I also saw Cedric Diggory come over and spend some time with George. They were gone for a long time and I might have caught them in the middle of something. They didn’t see me but I saw them behind the stone wall. Naked, Cedric was over George. They were grunting, yet it sounded very good… I saw Cedric’s you know go into George. It made me felt very weird yet good watching it. Was that sex? I should ask George about it later… is that what is going to happen with Tom and I? Will he put his member inside me? I haven’t even thought of that, or that my butt can be used that way!_

_It’s both exciting and frightening at the same time._

_September 1 st_

_There’s to be the Triwizard Tournament here! Apparently, that was what was so secretive that the Ministry was going on about. Three schools compete in it. Hogwarts, Beauxbaton, and Durmstrang. I wonder how they will arrive and how whoever will compete in the Triwizard Tournament will be picked. I’m happy that this is going on, and so is Tom however I think it’s for different reasons. I can’t wait to watch the tournament while Tom told me that the tournament is a perfect distraction. We can practice the Dark Arts in peace, and nobody will know. I asked him what Voldemort was planning, and he told me little, apparently, he couldn’t get close enough to really find out. All he knew was that it involved some graveyard near the manor. Tom told me he got a glimpse of Voldemort. He was disgusting, small, like a rotten baby. Maybe whatever he’s planning involves getting a body? I hope it fails._

_Anyway, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody. An Ex-Auror. He fight and caught Dark Wizards for a living. He’s a strange man, looks very jumpy and paranoid, which according to Ron he is._

_September 2 nd_

_I hate Blast-Ended Skrewts. That’s all I’m saying._

_September 5 th_

_Moody taught us the Unforgivable Curses—or, I should say, he shown them to us. I was scared that he was going to out me somehow, like he somehow knew that I know them, that I can perform them. He’s a dangerous one, I need to tell Tom to be careful with him. I think we need to find a new place to practice, somewhere unfindable by any means._

_October 30 th_

_The students arrived. I couldn’t believe it, Viktor Krum is a student from Durmstrang! I have to say up close I can see why people find him very attractive, however it doesn’t really matter does it? I have Tom._

_Anyway, the Headmasters will be the judges, along with Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman. The contestants will be picked by this old stone goblet called the Goblet of Fire. They place their names into it and the Goblet will pick tomorrow during the Halloween feast. Dumbledore’s placed an age line to prevent students who aren’t of age to compete. I feel like I would want to if I haven’t found Tom. Who wants eternal glory anyway? My goals are better and more satisfying in the long run._

_October 31 st_

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

_November 1 st_

_Feeling somewhat better after talking with Tom and Blaise about it. I sent a letter to Sirius about me being picked after Hermione told me to. Ron hates me now, or at least he’s jealous. Thinks I actually wanted this stupid competition! Lord knows how the school is going to react. I know one thing however: someone is trying to kill me. Shame though, whoever planned this trap didn’t think of my extracurricular lessons…_

_I will kill the rat; however I think I should practice first before I find him._

_November 13 th_

_I hate Rita Skeeter. Also her outfit is trash and make-up looks always smeared. That is all._

_November 18 th_

_Tom and I had a very good lesson, I’m learning so much Dark Arts! However, it was what happened afterwards that I want to write down and remember. Tom grabbed me roughly and kissed me with surprising strength and ferocity. A Master claiming his pet. That’s how it felt like, and it felt so right. He shoved me to my knees… had me take my shirt off and just kneel there in front of him. We were both quiet, both still. He then walked around but ordered me to stay still. I did so. I did not know how long I’ve stayed on my knees, however even after they started hurting, I didn’t even think of getting up. I would never refuse my Master. Tom returned when he was ready, pulled me up into another kiss and we left, me shirtless him fully clothed and we walked like this until we were at Gryffindor Tower. It was exhilarating!_

_November 24 th_

_The First Task was today. It was against a dragon, I had to capture a golden egg that it was guarding, and I did so using flying and several… undescriptive spells to distract the dragon as it chase me on my broom. It was as if I was playing a very dangerous game of Quidditch with a murderous opposing Seeker. I never want to do it again. I’m just happy that Ron and I patched things up. The egg is the clue to our second task, however when I opened it, all that came out was an ear-piercing unhuman scream. I have no idea what I will do with this. I hope that after this people will start to believe me that I did not want to enter this tournament. God knows what that Skeeter woman will write about this._

_December 1 st_

_Tom and I suspect the Headmaster of Durmstrang to be the one who placed my name in the Goblet of Fire. He’s an ex-Death Eater according to Sirius, and he always had a strange look whenever he stared at me. That, or he’s homophobic like Wood was. …and a good amount of people here, but I don’t want to think about that for now. For now, we’re continuing our training and I’ve convinced George to tell me about some things I’ve saw him, and Cedric do during the summer. I’ve confessed that I saw them in the bushes and instead of yelling, George just laughed before telling Fred, who joined in. Talk about embarrassing._

_December 8 th_

_I now know why we were asked to bring Dress robes this year. During Christmas night we will be having the Yule Ball, and as one of the four champions, I must attend with a date. Naturally I’ll be bringing Tom, however I do not know how to dance in the slightest. However, I must confess, I am not scared of looking a fool with my lack of dancing skills in front of the school, but how they will perceive Tom and myself. For while we do meet up for dates, it’s in secret. We don’t openly hold hands… none of us do, I feel. George barely talks about him and Cedric openly, only with close friends and even then… I can sense a fear that I myself feel like. We’re always hiding ourselves, hidden behind corners, in closets or shrubbery… never kissing in the open or passional locking lips in the disgusting display straight couples do. It is disgusting really, how open those other couples can be, how boys can basically grope and fuck a girl in the hallway yet if I try to hold Tom’s hand I get stares. What will happen at this ball when they see me dancing with a boy?_

_Maybe Cedric can help._

_December 16 th_

_I finally got a chance to ask Cedric. He and George had a long talk about it and decided it would be better if Cedric went with Cho Chang. Cowards. It made me only more confident. I will go with Tom, we will present ourselves as a united front… and fuck anyone who tries to stop us. I really should stop swearing, but it’s my diary. Tom got some idea of how we can ascertain if Karkaroff is the one who placed my name in the Goblet. Though, as usual, he’s being secretive. All he would tell me is, “Wait for the ball my pet. It’ll be very interesting.” The boy can’t just let a night go by normally, can he?_

_December 24 th_

_I tried on my dress robes just to make sure they fitted correctly. Late, I know, however you can never be too sure. Wizarding fashion is truly bizarre. I mean, These robes look kind of like a normal suit, same bland coloring of white and black, however there were frills around the wrists and, like a tailcoat, the robes hung low in the back for no reason and looked annoying. However, since I am bad with scissors and modifying in general, I guess I’ll have to suffer with it. At least the back doesn’t hang towards my feet, instead stopping around my ankle, but still I don’t generally like having something hang behind me that’s just in the back. A cloak is different, as is a general robe as those are supposed to be worn like that, but a suit? Just no._

And so, all caught up, the scene of the Yule Ball can begin, with hopefully Harry forgiving the reader for peering into his most private thoughts and feeling so freely as they have done. Now, without further ado, the decoration of the Great Hall during the Yule Ball…

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people. The champions all entered last with their dates. As told, Cedric walked with his friend Cho Chang, who looked pretty in her dress as the two smiled and walked together in a friendly manner. The Beauxbaton’s champion, a beautiful girl named Fleur Delacour, was with the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain Rodger Davis, which left Krum, the Durmstrang champion, with, much to Harry’s shock, Hermione.

Harry knew that he and Tom stuck out from the three other couples, for the obvious reason and others. Still, Harry did his best to keep his head high as they walked across the Great Hall. Dumbledore beamed happily at the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably sour as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, Harry suddenly realized, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Harry. Harry took the hint and sat down next to Percy. Tom gave a final survey of the room before sitting down himself. “This evening seems to be at a good start,” he commented, “there are no hissing or glaring… at least not the obvious ones. Hello Percy,” he finally addressed.

“Hello. I’ve been promoted,” Percy said, announcing it as though he might have been announcing his election as supreme ruler of the universe. “I’m now Mr. Crouch’s personal assistant, and I’m here representing him.”

“Odd that he’s not here,” Tom said. “He was here for the first event, correct?”

“Yes—”

“I see, and he’s not here,” Tom commented again. Percy went into a long winded explanation which Harry only half listened to as, at the same time Percy was speaking, Karkaroff grunted, “Dumbledore, you know that Durmstrang is a cold school, and a traditional school at that.”

“Yes, I do remember needing several heavy cloaks on my visit there several years ago,” Dumbledore commented. “Must have been before you were headmaster there… Headmaster Varnak… he was a jolly man, but his curriculum was questionable at times.”

“Yes, and there we have set standards and definitions of what partners and champions mean, Professor Dumbledore,” Karkaroff said.

“Your point, Igor?” Dumbledore asked.

“My point is that this is twice you have insulted us,” Karkaroff said. “First with having two champions, and now to have your second champion bring a boy as his partner!”

“Now, now,” Madame Maxime said, “I think it iz amusing.”

“Amusing—”

“Igor,” Dumbledore said warningly. “Our champions are risking their health for this tournament, whomever they choose to bring at this time of celebration is up to them.”

Karkaroff scowled and turned to Madame Maxime. “You can’t be agreeing with him!”

“At my school, we have a saying, ‘boys practice with boys in order to stay with girls.’ This is clearly what these two are doing,” Madame Maxime said. “It is entertaining, but that is all it is.”

“Now, now, Madame,” Dumbledore said heartily, though Harry could see that his eyes glimmered with some annoyance, “you cannot expect that to be true for all cases. Especially here.”

“Believe what you will Dumblydore, however I know that those two will meet beautiful wives who’ll take them away from their amusing games,” Madame Maxime said. Dumbledore did not reply to that.

Instead, he looked to the empty golden plate in front of him and picked up the menu laying on top of it politely. He gazed at it for a minute, longer than necessary to read all the items and make up his mind, and said very clearly to his plate, “Pork chops!”

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. Tom leaned towards Harry and glanced at the two other headmasters. “Strange, isn’t it? That Dumbledore argued in our defense,” he mused.

“Not everything has to be dark wizards and light wizards, Tom,” Harry whispered. “Dumbledore is Dumbledore… he has a strange fixation on the power of love.”

“And he should,” Tom nodded. “However—”

“I know what we are Tom… but tonight, we’re just boyfriends, okay?” Harry said, and his hand reached out for Tom’s under the table. Tom took it and brought Harry’s hand to his lips, kissing it. “Of course my love,” he said, loudly enough for Karkaroff and Madame Maxime to hear, earning him a scowl from Karkaroff and a subtle side-eye from Maxime.

He looked around and frowned, “Strange,” he said.

“What is, Tom?” Harry asked.

“Professor Moody isn’t here,” Tom noted.

“You expected him to?”

“No… however I expected him to make an appearance,” Tom said. “I wonder what he is doing.”

“Why do you even worry about him?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” Tom frowned. “It’s just something about him that makes me feel off… you know? Ever since his first lesson.”

“Could it be because he’s an Auror?” Harry asked lightly.

“Hmm… no, no that’s not it at all,” Tom said, shaking his head. He thought about it for another moment, “Bah, never mind, no need to worry about it. Besides, we cannot simply leave if we wanted to. You need to do your champion-duties after all.”

Harry grimaced. “You’ll take charge during that,” he said.

“Don’t I always?” Tom chuckled.

Once the food was consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

Harry never heard of the band who took the stage, they all reminded him of furry gremlins as they were all extremely hairy. They picked up the instruments and played a slow, mournful tone as Harry and Tom walked onto the dance floor along with the other champions and their dates. Tom took charge and Harry kept an eye out for any glares and heated looks. Of course, there were plenty from Slytherin, however he was glad to see Blaise give him a huge smile when the couple moved pass him. They danced by Cedric and Cho, who seemed to be having fun, which made Harry think of George. Others started to join in the dance, filling the floor with couples and friends quickly. He looked around and saw George far away sitting by himself. Edging towards the older Weasley, he and Tom moved both clumsy and gracefully across the floor until Harry could see George’s face.

“He’s so sad,” he commented. They turned so Tom could see him. “It must be heartbreaking to not be able to dance with Cedric.”

“It was their choice,” Tom said. “They knew what would happen. However, you’re right in that it is selfish of Diggory.” George’s eyes never left Cedric and Cho. Harry watched his friend as he and Tom danced together, sending him hopeful looks and smiles but it did nothing to relieve him.

“We should talk with him,” Harry said. However no sooner has Harry said that did George stand up to leave. Harry stopped dancing to watch the younger Weasley twin go. Tom watched him too then quickly turned to look at Cedric. “He hasn’t noticed…” Harry said as they watched the Hufflepuff continue to dance with Cho Chang.

“There are many dark arts and dangerous spells in the world Harry,” Tom commented, “however there is nothing more harming, nothing eviler and more insulting than a forgetful, oblivious lover.” Harry nodded in agreement.

His merriment soiled; Harry tugged Tom off of the dance floor. “Let’s just go for a walk,” he said softly. “Don’t feel like dancing anymore.” Tom nodded and the two left the great hall for the cold clear night outside. Harry couldn’t get George’s sad face out of his mind as they walked aimlessly around. Turning corners in the courtyard and out into the field. Neither of them felt like talking, neither of them didn’t needed to talk, just content with the other’s company.


	12. Moving Forward

Ch. 12

Moving Forward

The morning after found Harry in a strange situation. The Weasleys were all gathered together in the common room in a corner. There was no sense of merriment on Boxing Day from them as, Harry saw, George was crying hysterically. Fred sat next to his brother while both Ron and Ginny were crouched in front of him. Harry went up to them, asking, “George? What’s the matter?”

“He’s been crying all night,” Fred frowned. “Ever since the Yule Ball.”

“Seeing Cedric dance with Cho really must have messed him up,” Ron frowned. George made a pitiful sound at Cedric’s name, that sounded like a moan and bust of tears as he tried to say Cedric’s name.

“That’s horrible,” Harry frowned.

George sniffled and nodded, “It’s my fault. I was the one who suggested he goes with Cho. They’re best friends, I thought it would be better than a random girl. I just never thought it would go that well.”

“What happened? Did you see them—”

“No,” George interrupted Harry. “They never kissed if that’s what you wanted to know. But they were just so happy together… and—and,’—he took a moment to blow his nose— “he wasn’t happy with me! He never once offered to dance with me—even if we danced like we were just friends!” He started to cry again, and Harry looked at his friends lost on what to do. “How is it,” George continued, “that you and Tom have the courage to go as dates while Cedric and I couldn’t!?”

“Well… it just happened,” Harry said awkwardly. “We never thought of going with anyone else, it was always just me and him.”

“Wish Cedric and I thought of that,” George said with intense jealousy that Harry knew he didn’t mean. “Stupid bastard…” Tears started again, and Harry felt even more awkward as he looked around at the other Weasleys.

Harry stood up and looked at them, “I’m going to go find him,” Harry said.

“Huh?” George sniffled.

“I’m going to find Cedric,” Harry said, and he left before anyone could object.

 

“Well, you are Victor Krum, correct?” Tom asked. They were inside the castle, the Bulgarian dressed in his furs while Tom was in a heavy robe. “I remember you from last night and the First Task,” he continued. “I must say your thought of trying to stun the dragon was a risky one.”

The Bulgarian turned to Tom and stared at him for a moment. “You are that boy with Potter,” he said.

“Yes,” Tom said, “I am Harry’s boyfriend, Thomas Blackthorn, but please, call me Tom.”

“Yes! Now I remember… that Potter did remarkable flying and some spells I don’t know,” Krum said.

“And it would be better if you did not know… just as the rest of the school did not know that you used a very minor Dark Art during the First Task—oh don’t look so shocked Viktor, my boy, it isn’t as though I am accusing you of anything,” Tom said in a friendly manner. “After all, we all go into areas we aren’t allowed in and find ourselves loving it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Viktor said.

“I’m sure you do,” Tom said. “Your school seems to specialize in the Dark Arts, does it not?”

“That—that was before I came there,” Viktor said. Tom nodded, “Of course,” Tom said, “I wouldn’t dare suggest that you would know any dark spells, however your school does have a temptation for the Dark Arts.”

“And what if it does… uhh not really, of course,” Viktor said.

“You saw my boy, right?” Tom asked. “He’s learning, yes, however he does need a little push now and again… I am not asking you to be that push, no. If you touch him, Krum, like you’ve touched his friend, then I can assure you that you will pay for it. Instead, I want you to show me. Show me these spells that your school allegedly used to teach.”

“And what would I get then? If I do this?” Viktor Krum asked. Tom smirked. He stepped towards the older teen and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “My dear Viktor,” he said calmly, like a snake playing with his prey, “I will promise you glory unending, all the money, power, and women you want… and all the boys you want too,” he added, smiling at Krum’s shocked look.

“How did you—”

“Now, now don’t think of it,” Tom hushed. “Let me show you…” He took out his wand and, without fear of being looked upon, he began casting incantation after incantation, the area around them filling with a thick visible darkness of dark magic that thrilled and scared anyone who stepped into it, except for Tom, of course. He saw Viktor’s eyes go wide, his body shook at the power that coursed through the air and into his lungs. His eyes dimmed for a moment before focusing again.

The Durmstrang Champion turned to Tom, “Who are you?” he whispered.

Tom gave no answer. He flicked his wand, and the magic was gone. “Do we have a deal?” he asked. He held out his hand.

Krum took it in a flash and shook it. “Yes, yes!” he cheered.

“Excellent… there is a condition, however,” Tom said.

“What is it? I’ll do anything!” Krum said. Tom smirked. _This boy was too easy… I feel almost bad._

“Simple really, you must listen to me at all times, and, when the tournament is done, you will perform a favor for me, just one simple favor,” Tom said. “I will tell you what it is when that time comes, however, once that is complete, all the riches, fame, and women and men you can bed will be yours.”

“Yes! I agree,” Krum smiled.

“And what is it you are agreeing to, Viktor?”

Tom and Krum turned to see Professor Karkaroff walking towards them. He saw Tom and gave a huge look of disapproval while he held up his nose. “Ahh, you,” he said. “You are the… fairy from last night with the Potter boy.”

“I am happy to see that you remember me, Professor Karkaroff,” Tom said politely. “My name is Thomas Blackthorn.”

“Yes, yes, what are you doing with Krum?” Karkaroff demanded. “You better not be making him a pansy too!”

“Of course not, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Tom said, “We have just made a deal for after the tournament. Nothing at all to… influence Hogwarts’ chance of winning.” He stopped and looked up at Professor Karkaroff. They’ve caught eye contact and Tom began to probe his mind, finding something very interesting. “However I believe that is not what you are fearing, Professor.”

“What are you talking about pansy?” Professor Karkaroff sneered. “Stay away from Viktor! Come Viktor, we are leaving.”

He snapped his fingers and turned around. Krum started to follow him however, both Krum and Professor Karkaroff stopped in their tracks as Tom yelled out, “I am talking about what is on your arm. It seems to be growing darker, correct?”

Karkaroff paled “I… I have no idea what you are talking about boy,” he stuttered, “come Viktor.”

“Krum, if I may have a word?” Tom said. Viktor looked between Karkaroff and Tom, at a lost to what to do, before walked over towards Tom. “I will be at the ship when I am done, Professor,” he promised.

Karkaroff looked as though he wanted to yell and argue, but did not, still too petrified and worried from Tom’s comment. Tom once again wrapped his arm around Viktor’s shoulder, his other hand behind his back holding his wand. “Viktor, my sweet boy, I know what I want you to do,” Tom said conversationally. “And I know that you’ll do it, won’t you?” Krum nodded.

“Good… you see, I just need you to kill Karkaroff—not now, of course, no, that would be too suspicious. But after the tournament is done, after everything is over… kill him, Viktor. He stands between you and everything you want.” Tom saw Krum’s eyes go dim and blurry again, having a vague expression before focusing once more. He looked at Tom and smiled, “When I am done, I will tell you the boys and women I love,” he said.

“And I will send them your way Viktor, now go on. We don’t want Karkaroff waiting, do we?” Tom said lightly.

“No,” Viktor said, and he waved his new friend and lord goodbye and ran off towards the boat he and the other Durmstrang students occupied, disappearing behind the doors leading outside.

Satisfied with his work, Tom started to hum a tune as he strolled the castle’s corridors looking around at the jolly portraits, all making merry on Christmas day. “This certainly is taking too long,” Tom sighed. “However, there is no way to speed it up, I suppose.” He stopped at a window and peered out into the snowy grounds. “I know what you are planning, when, and where… I must say that you do have a flair for dramatics, but then again so do I. No matter, I have Harry while you do not. And I’ll make sure you never do.”

He chuckled, “Speaking to myself… really Thomas?” He shook his head and continued on his way, humming the same tune.

 

Harry didn’t know what he was doing, running around the castle blindly looking for Cedric. He didn’t even know where the Hufflepuff common room is! He knew that it was on the first floor, so he ran towards the entrance hall and took the door by the marble staircase. He hoped that if he wandered around, he could either find Cedric or run into a Hufflepuff. It seemed that it was going to be a lucky Christmas as, after ten minutes of endless wandering, he ran into a group of Hufflepuff girls. “Excuse me!” he called out.

“What do you want?” one of them asked.

“Do you know where Cedric Diggory is?” Harry asked sweetly. “I really need to talk to him about something.”

“Uhh okay?” the girl said, “he’s in the common room but you’re not going in there.”

“Then can one of you please go get him?” Harry asked. They looked reluctant however one broke off with a sigh, “Fine,” she said. “Wait here, Potter.”

Harry flashed her a smile and waited with the others as the one walked off, only to return a few minutes later with Cedric. “Hello Harry,” He said good naturally. “Merry Christmas, how are you?” Harry couldn’t help but notice the surprised looks on the girls.

“I wanted to talk to you Cedric,” Harry said, “in private…”

“Sure,” Cedric shrugged, he motioned for Harry to lead the way. They moved away and into an empty hallway. “What’s up?” Cedric asked.

“It’s about George,” Harry said. “He’s in pieces because of what happened last night at the Yule Ball. I know that you two agreed to it but still he felt that you were having too much fun with Cho… did you even notice that he left early?”

“He did!” Cedric gasped. He blushed and his surprised turned into a shameful expression. “I’m a horrible boyfriend,” he moaned.

“Yeah…” Harry said awkwardly.

“I seriously thought that it would be okay… it was his idea, I thought that… never mind, where is he?” Cedric asked. “I need to apologize!”

“In the common room, the others might be… mad at you,” Harry said.

“I don’t care I need to make sure that George is alright!” Cedric said and he blasted into a run down the corridor. Harry ran to try and catch up but the older teen was faster. The two sped into the entrance hall and up the marble staircase to the seventh floor. Harry led Cedric to the Gryffindor common room and opened the portrait hole for him. Cedric ran into, calling out George’s name.

Harry walked in to see both teens hugging each other. “I’m so stupid George! I’m so sorry,” Cedric said, “I thought that you were fine with it—I’m so stupid you should have gone with me, you should have been my date!”

“I should have,” George cried, the other Weasleys stared at the two of them, not sure what to do. Cedric and George’s faces met in a kiss and the others looked away awkward while Harry watched. Ron walked up to Harry and glanced back at the kissing pair. “Well… at least his not crying,” he sighed. Harry nodded.

“Harry mate… can I ask you something?” Ron asked.

“What is it?”

“When… when did you know… that you, you know, like boys?” Ron asked, his face redder than his hair.

“Second year,” Harry said. “Are you okay Ron?”

“I am but…” Ron glanced at Cedric and George, biting his bottom lip nervously, “I think I might like… both, you know… I just don’t know if… if you ever—”

“I always knew I liked boys,” Harry said. “It was an oddness, a way that I knew I wasn’t connecting with the others.” Ron nodded but looked uncertain. Harry smiled and patted his shoulder, “Just take your time with it,” he said. “No need to rush it, eh?”

“Yeah.. you’re right,” Ron nodded. “Anyway, looks like it’ll be a peaceful Christmas, eh? No crying George to deal with.”

“Yup,” Harry nodded. “Not to be mean, but I prefer it this way.”

Harry enjoyed his Christmas immensely. He and Tom spent the day together in the Great Hall with the rest of the Weasleys. Cedric and George were always on top of each other, always kissing or holding hands as if there was always a mistletoe on top of them. It was cute, if not a little embarrassing at times. Harry felt that time kept moving forward at an immense pace. Between figuring out the clue for the second task, Tom’s dark arts lessons, as well as his regular schooling… January flew by before Harry noticed. He was eternally grateful when Cedric told him about the prefects’ bath and the golden egg in the beginning of February. He and Tom went there later that night to hear the riddle in the golden egg, a riddle that Harry spent the rest of the time trying to figure out.

Before he knew it, the Second Task was upon him, Tom was missing, and all that stood between him and the ending of the second task was a handful of gillyweed given to him at the last moment by Neville Longbottom, and the merpeople residing at the bottom of the Black Lake. At the sound of the cannon Harry swallowed the gillyweed and took a dive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took TOO LONG to make, oh my lord I am so sorry! I hope that everything is good for ya’ll even though we’ve sped through two months. Next time, another speed through… and a fateful encounter.


	13. End of an Era

Chapter 13

End of an Era

Harry and Tom were frozen from the lake, still shivering under the towels, the two looked around the pier. Harry was last, he refused to save only one and wanted to save everyone. George and Cedric were cuddled close next to them, sharing towels, while Hermione was with Viktor Krum and Fleur was holding onto her younger sister tightly. The points were given, still Harry did not feel ready to move. “This must have been so boring to watch,” Tom mused.

“Huh?”

“The lake,” Tom said, “while you and the others were down there trying to get us… the rest of the school could only see the lake’s surface. It must have been boring to watch, in that respect I’m almost glad I’ve slept through it.”

Harry nodded, “I was stupid, wasn’t I?” he asked, “Trying to save all of you…”

“Stupid? No. Fool-hearted? Possibly… stubbornly courageous, indeed,” Tom said. “I do not know if it is your childish idealism or your golden heart, however you were brave enough to find a way to save two people, while the other two just stuck with their one… Of course, there was really no harm coming to any of us.”

“I see that now,” Harry frowned. “Anyway, I could really do with a hot bath.”

“As can I,” Tom said. He stood up and held out his hand, “Heated blankets are good, but there is nothing like having a relaxing warm bath with your boyfriend. Shall we?”

Harry took Tom’s hand, “Where are we going?” he asked.

“The Prefect’s Bathroom of course,” Tom said. “I suspect it should be empty by now, and if now, I am sure it’s current occupants do not mind sharing it with us.” Harry nodded, giving a little smile, before walking off with Tom. His head and body were full of adrenaline, so much so that he almost forgot that he had to write in his diary that night. Luckily, however, that was an old habit, one that will never die.

_February 28 th_

_Tom told me that he had special procedures in line with one Death Eater. He told me that there was one around Hogwarts, however he did not tell me who. I was scared to hear that there was a Death Eater here, I wanted to run and tell Dumbledore immediately, however Tom made me promise not to tell anyone. In return, he did something that made me feel very good… However I cannot help but feel worried. I know that my name was placed in the Goblet for a purpose, I just don’t know what that purpose is. Whatever it is, it isn’t good._

_March 5 th_

_That Skeeter woman somehow written an article about me and Tom! It’s pure rubbish, saying that I am leading both him and Ron for my own amusements—just because I am not afraid to hug my friend, and Ron is clearly okay with it! I am so mad! Livid even, that woman was banned from the grounds I thought! How could she have gotten that information? Never mind, I need to focus on something. My day was fine besides that, and I’ve saw Ron hang around more with both Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. I don’t know what they are doing, however Ron and Draco have never yelled at each other, and I even saw them smile at one another at some point. These are strange times we are living in._

_March 8 th_

_To be honest I thought receiving hate mail would be more exciting, however it is positively exhausting. Older witches and wizards have nothing better to do, I guess, than to send jinxes and minor curse words to a fourteen year old who loves his boyfriend very much. It’s a bit sad. Oh well, from now on I’m using any and all hate mail to help keep the fires in Gryffindor Tower warm, that should cheer everyone up._

_March 14 th_

_Have you ever felt like the world is just moving so slow? Like there is an enormous event just on the horizon, just out of reach, and everyone but you know what it is and they are waiting with baited breath for it to come… only for it to come at a death’s crawl? I feel like that is my life with the Third Task. Everyone wants it to be here already and yet… the twenty-fourth of June seems so far away. Something is going to happen there, I know it… I just wish for it to come so that it can be over and yet, as I think about it, I’m also dreading it._

_May 3 rd_

_Tom stopped our lessons, he told me that I now know everything I need to know. Instead, we’ve started to fool around. Our clothes quickly were flung off and… it was amazing, it was everything I expected and more. I just hope that I can’t get pregnant._

_May 15 th_

_Tom and I did it again. I’m like addicted to it, is that normal? Divination almost made me fall asleep but then Tom and I found an empty bathroom and I was wide away real soon._

_May 20 th_

_Divination is so boring, I should have dropped it like Hermione._

_May 27 th_

_They are turning the Quidditch Field into a maze for the third task. However, Krum and I were by ourselves by the forest tonight. He was talking, he was rather nice, I can see myself asking to date him if I didn’t already have Tom. Out of nowhere a battered and injured Mr. Crouch came out and scared us. He was talking nonsense—I ran quickly to get Dumbledore but when we returned Viktor was unconscious and Mr. Crouch was gone! He couldn’t have gotten far—he looked near death! I’m still shaking about what happened, it can’t be a good sign. I’m sending a letter to Sirius about it tomorrow, then telling Tom._

_May 29 th_

_Sirius replied. Told me it was dangerous to be with Krum, and that I shouldn’t wander around after hours. Not that I had plans to. Tom’s lessons started again; in that he is helping me prepare for the Third Task. Ron and Hermione help me as well; however, it is obvious that Tom is taking the lead. I should be confident about the task, however I’m not… I’m far from it in fact, I’m just more nervous than anything._

_May 31 st _

_I had a vision of Voldemort. He and Wormtail are preparing something, I don’t ‘know what. I was in Divination when it happened… I thought I was just dreaming when it shifted to Voldemort. I ran to tell Dumbledore, and while I waited for him in his office, I found a weird dish full of water and memories. In it I found Professor Dumbledore’s memories of a trial that happened. Karkaroff was on trial as a Death Eater, and he sold his comrade for his freedom. I knew a lot of the people he sold… but also one that surprised me. Barty Crouch Jr. I didn’t even know the man had a son. Dumbledore found me afterwards and after out talks my fear is still far from relieved. I need Tom._

_June 14 th_

_Tom has given me a necklace. “Wear it always my pet,” he told me, “whenever you are in trouble, I will come running to you. It’s my charm to protect you.” It was really sweet of him, and the necklace is really beautiful. I already feel safer just wearing it, and I know I’ll never take it off._

_June 23 rd_

_Tomorrow’s the Third Task, it all ends tomorrow. I’ve tried a practice that Tom taught me. I’m exhausted and yet I still cannot sleep. I don’t know what will await for me tomorrow, I just hope I live to write about it._

Battered, cut, injured and breathless, Harry could see the Triwizard Cup in sight. Everyone else was gone from the maze. He saw red sparks shot up high long before, which must has been Fleur as he ran into Viktor and Cedric just moments later. Both unconscious. He had to send up the sparks himself and wait for Professor McGonagall to take them out along with Professor Moody. Now it was just him… and a straight shot to the Cup.

There was no other challenges, no other difficulties standing between Harry and the Triwizard Cup, as it sat on a raised platform, the cup shining an brilliant blue, enticing anyone near it to touch it. Harry walked up slowly, his breath ragged, legs burning as the hedges around him seemed to become thicker and longer with each step. He stopped at the platform, his body shaking.

He took a breath and reached out and gripped the handle.

Instantly Harry felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench his hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color.

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave out and he fell forward; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head. He had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; he had obviously traveled many miles—perhaps hundreds of miles—for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. He was standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to his right. A hill rose above him to his left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

He pulled out his wand, just in case, He looked around, in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but feel as though he was being watched. Then he saw it. Squinting tensely through the darkness, he watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward him between the graves. Harry couldn’t make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And—several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time—Harry saw that the thing in the person’s arm looked like a baby … or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly. The figure stopped at a towering marble headstone, only six feet away from Harry. For a second, the two simply looked at one another. And then, without warning, his scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open.

He felt someone grab and drag him. He was thrust against something hard. The hooded figure pulled out a wand and lit it; in the wandlight Harry could see the name upon the marble headstone.

TOM RIDDLE

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, trying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him—hit him wit ha hand that had a finger missing. And Harry gasped. It was Wormtail.

“You!”

But it wasn’t Wormtail who answered him, but another voice. “My dear Harry, if you wanted to be tied up, why let that beast do it?” Wormtail stiffened. He looked up only to be blasted away by an unknown spell.

Tom walked into Harry’s focus, smiling at him. “I had a feeling this would happen my love,” he said, looking at Wormtail and the bundle. “I heard him talking about it while I was here. That’s why I’ve given you the necklace. Today’s the day finally it seemed, strange though, I feel it was both rushed and yet took a long time for this day.”

“Y-you,” Wormtail sputtered. Tom smiled and stood up fully. “Hello Wormtail,” he said coldly, “it has been a year…” he walked towards the bundle of robes that was on the floor. He stood between Harry and the robes and knelt down, opening them so only Tom could see. It was then that Harry heard a voice, a cold voice that only existed in nightmares.

_“You… my Horcrux come to life…”_

“Hello Voldemort,” Tom said, “It has been some time… fifty years.”

_“How have you return? I did not feel it.”_

Tom smirked and looked back at Harry. “It’s all because of the boy you’re trying to now kill,” he said. “I’ve seduced him… made him mine just as Adrian was. You remember Adrian, don’t you? The boy who was the love of our lives…”

There was a cold laugh from the bundles. _“Yes… he is dead.”_

Tom sighed and shook his head. He looked towards Wormtail for a moment, considering the frightened man before aiming his wand at him. _“Avada Kedavra.”_ The rat barely had time to give a squeak before he collapsed dead. Harry struggled as he thought he heard slithering behind him, however he couldn’t move his neck at all. Tom, however, seemed unconcerned as he turned back to the bundle of robes. “Such a stupid old man,” he laughed, “reduced to what? A disgusting babe of flesh—more monstrous than ever. Have you made them? All seven?”

There was no reply from the bundle of robes. Tom sighed and stood up. He walked towards Harry and silently undid the rope binding him. “What’s going on?” Harry asked, “What are we going to do?”

Tom looked at the bundle for a moment before turning to Harry. “Do you want to see this?” He asked. “You can turn away and imagine that this is humane…” Harry shook his head, “No,” he said, “I have to see this.”

Tom sighed, “Very well… can you please move away from my father’s grave then?” Harry nodded and stepped away. Tom moved towards the bundle and Harry could sense a very different aura about him. Gone was any love, happiness, or peace he found in his lover. Instead, he stood before it full of malice, hatred, and pure evil. He picked up the bundle and Harry saw a cold smile appear on Tom. “You’re afraid… you’re afraid of what I will do to you… you should be. After all, you are just an old man who, even after so much death and wars, accomplished nothing… you cannot do anything right you old fool.” He moved the robes, letting it fall to the ground, and Harry let out a small scream.

It had the shape of a human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face—no child alive ever had a face like that—flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless, not that Tom cared. “For fifty years I have been stuck in that diary,” he began. “Not that I am petty or jealous about it… no, for fifty years I have been planning, wondering, thinking of how the world would be with me in charge… curious to all the wonderous things that Lord Voldemort will accomplish. And now, out of the diary, I am both astonished and angry to find that you’ve accomplished nothing… the great Dark Lord, defeated by a baby.” Tom walked towards the headstone slowly, never looking down at the monster in his arms, or at Harry, his eyes focused forward, and cold of humanity. “A child! Who did nothing but cry and scream as his parents are dead around him! And still you could not have killed him. Not that it matters now… Potter is mine, and I will never let anyone harm a head on my love…” He stopped just before the headstone. He glanced at the name and chuckled coldly. “Goodbye Tom Riddle Jr. … the world won’t forget about you… but I will.”

He held the abomination by it’s feeble looking legs and let it dangle in front of him. He swung his arms back and Harry realized what Tom was going to do a second before it actually happened. He swung the abomination with full force towards the headstone. The sickening crunch of bones breaking filled the air, red blood and puss splattered everywhere, the legs that Tom was holding onto broke off into two as the monster stuck to the headstone, glued on by it’s own blood. It jerked endlessly, still somehow living. Tom took the head and rammed it repeatedly into the tombstone, a mad look in his eyes, his teeth gritted, and nose flared with each and every punch until, there was no distinguishable body, but a large spread of blood, flesh, and puss. Bones stuck out at odd places, and Harry had to turn away quickly as he felt his stomach flip and threw up.

Tom left the tombstone and cleaned his hands with the bundle of robes, finding and pulling out his old wand and pocketing it. His hands clean, he moved to Harry and placed his hand on Harry’s back, “It’s done,” he whispered. “No—don’t look, you don’t need to look.” Harry sputtered and looked up to Tom. Together, they walked in silence to the yew tree and sat down under it. They were both silent, watching the night sky above them. Time passed normally, without any noticing. Harry turned to Tom and watched him. Any anger, any violent, malice, any hatred that was once in his eyes were gone, replaced by his normal contemplation. “What now?” Harry whispered.

Tom glanced at Harry before looking up, spotting the moon through the yew’s branches. “I like to think that years ago… my conquest started with a broken heart. That all I’ve done, I’ve done in the name of my lost love, killed by a society that did not understand him. However, that was lost as time went on… and Adrian laid forgotten. And now… the monster that Tom Riddle had become is now dead. I hope that in the afterlife, he and Adrian might once again reunite… but that might be just wishful thinking. As of the present… Voldemort is dead, and we are alive. Why risk our lives ever more? Tom Riddle may lie dead in this graveyard, murdered by the headstone of his father… but the future for me, for Thomas Blackthorn, is yet to be written, and is shining with many opportunities, with his husband Harry Blackthorn by his side.” They shared a sweet smile and Harry reached for Tom’s hand.

“Whatever you do, I’ll be there to support you,” Harry smiled. “I’m positive that you will be brilliant at it.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Tom said. He brought Harry’s hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I think I might go into teaching… be it at Hogwarts or any other school, though I must confess I have a preference for Hogwarts. After all, you were an excellent student, Harry.” Harry giggled at this. He glanced back and noticed Wormtail’s body.

“What about all this?” he asked, gesturing to the graveyard. “What will we tell the world?”

“Nothing,” Tom said. “They all believed Voldemort died thirteen years ago… let’s keep it that way. Of course, Dumbledore will have to know the truth, if he doesn’t already. We’ll bring Wormtail’s body to him, I’m sure he can use it to set Sirius free. He’s a clever man, Dumbledore, hate him or love him, you have to admit he’s clever.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “I don’t want to go, oddly enough,” he said. “I don’t want to go back to the noise… can’t we stay under this tree for just a little bit longer?”

“Of course,” Tom smiled. “As long as you need.” Harry leaned against Tom and they watched the night sky together.

 

Later, when both were starting to feel tired, Tom roused Harry to go. They walked together to the Triwizard Cup and shared a kiss before Harry gripped the Cup again, transporting back to Hogwarts. The roar of the crowd greeted him, and Harry could just give a tired smile as he held the Cup up high. Looking around, he was surprised to see Professor Moody staring intensely at Harry, looking a little scared. He had no time to worry about that, however, as Ludo Bagman took Harry’s hand and raised it up high, showing off the Triwizard Cup. “Our winner!” he yelled out to the cheering crowd, “Harry Potter!”

Tom returned to the castle with Wormtail’s body transfigured into a stone. Alone in the hallway, he was surprised to see Professor Moody by himself. He looked frantic, muttering to himself and angry. “Professor,” Tom said concerned, “shouldn’t you be at the Quidditch Pitch with the others? Harry won you know.”

Professor Moody stopped, he turned to Tom and, for the first time, surprised Tom. His face looked melted, his body turning in on itself as the man struggled with the magical eye, pulling it out of its socket just quick enough for a real eye to take it’s place. Moody’s wooden leg spat out, a real one sprouting out as well and the man began to thin and stretch, hair bursting on his head. Tom took a step back and looked around quickly. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Stupid boy,” the man grumbled, “shouldn’t have seen that.”

Tom already had his wand out but a voice from just behind him yelled out, _“Stupefy!”_ The stunning spell shot over his shoulder and hit the mysterious man. Tom turned around to see Professor Dumbledore standing just behind him. The headmaster’s eyes moved from the man to Tom.

“How did you know to be here?” Tom asked.

“I must confess, Mr. Blackthorn, I did not expect to run into you here,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I merely saw my friend looking a little ill and followed out of concern. However, imagine my surprised when I saw this, and you standing right in front of him Mr. Blackthorn… or should I call you Mr. Riddle?”

Tom gave a chuckle, “No use trying to fool you,” he said. “How long have you known about me?”

“Since last year, I know every single student I’ve ever taught Tom… and you are a student that I will never forget,” Dumbledore said, Tom nodded and noticed that his wand seemed slack in his hand.

“It’s Blackthorn now, sir, if you please… Tom Riddle is dead,” Tom said.

“Is that so?” Dumbledore asked in a serious tone.

“Yes,” Tom nodded. He pulled out the pebble from his pocket, “I would like to confess two deaths that I’ve committed, if you would? This is Wormtail… I thought that you could use him… for Sirius.”

“The years have changed you,” Dumbledore said, looking completely surprised. Tom shook his head, “No sir, love has,” he said.

Dumbledore nodded. He walked up to Tom and placed a hand on his back, “I am proud of that,” he said, “if you would, go get Professor Snape and have him bring a vial of Veritaserum for our newcomer here. After his manner is done, we can talk about yours…”

 

_June 25 th_

_I am very happy to have the Triwizard Tournament over. Tom told me that when he returned, he and Dumbledore talked overnight about everything that happened, his years in the diary, my help in his escape, and our love. In the end, Dumbledore agreed to keep Tom Riddle dead, it is what is best for the world, and Tom can keep studying here as Thomas Blackthorn. However, he will have to explain to Sirius how exactly he came across of Wormtail’s body. Dumbledore was able to extract memories from the corpse, which will be an excellent step in helping Sirius get his freedom. Then hopefully soon afterwards I can start living with him!_

_I still cannot believe that it is over, Voldemort is fully gone. There are his followers, yes, however they have all fled or are in Azkaban. Nobody is stupid enough to actually rise up without their leader. Anyway, I actually saw Ron and Blaise kissing! I can’t believe it! They didn’t say anything, or noticed me, which is good. They look good together, I hope it lasts. The term is over, all the exams are done, and all that is left to do this semester is relax with my boyfriend, watching the clouds go by._

_I feel like something died in that graveyard, something that was inside all of us, and now all that is left is something new, something bright, and something… I don’t know, peaceful? Boring? Boring… I like that word. Boring. I hope I can have a lot more days that are just boring. It would be absolutely fantastic._

_July 14 th_

_Today’s the day! I’m moving in with Sirius! I’m more than happy to see the Dursleys gone and they are more than happy to see the last of me. I hope I will never see any of them again. Sirius and I are moving into a place called Number 12 Grimmauld Place, it apparently used to be his old home. He warned me that it was drastically unlivable, but anything is better than the Dursleys. Tom will be with us all summer to help clean up, as well as the Weasleys. Everything seems to be going great, my room had a large bed, big enough for Tom and me, and I don’t care that there’s a creepy house-elf that does nothing but stare daggers at me, I can’t help but be happy about this whole situation. I cannot wait for the next year of Hogwarts to come, and I can at last have just a boring, plain year with my loving boyfriend._

_July1st 1998_

_We’ve done it! Tom and I officially graduated Hogwarts! I’m so happy that I’ll never have to write a paper ever again in my life! Well Tom has to, he was just approved for an apprenticeship for Defense Against the Dark Arts mastery, after which he can begin teaching. Me however, I think I’ll relax for a week… or a month before I think about work. Sirius is old friends with the head of the Auror Department, a man named Kingsley Shaklebolt. He told me that whenever I was ready, I can hand in my transcript and Kingsley will look it over. I hope I get in._

_September 5 th 1998_

_I just got work from Kingsley! I’m starting my Auror training properly next week._

_February 17 th 2005_

_Tom and I found a lovely house for sale, it has a wonderful yard, not too close to the city and yet it has a nice wizarding neighborhood. Sirius is sad that I’m moving out, however Tom and I promised that we would visit him and Remus as much as we can, and that we’ll need all the help we can get moving in. We told Ron and Blaise about it, and the two agreed to help. It’s a shame that their thing with Draco ended, however Ron told me that they were still friends. Even now it seems odd to consider that man a friend… maybe I should talk to him some more._

_July 30 th 2007_

_I’m so nervous. Everything is set, the guests are all situated, the seating has been a nightmare, the rings are here, and my suit is perfect and yet… It’s my fucking wedding! How can I not be worried? What if I trip? Or if I do something stupid—Tom wanted to outdo Cedric and George’s wedding—but how to do you outdo a dragon show? I know it is all in good fun but he’s a Professor! He should be more mature than that. Fuck, I feel like I won’t be able to relax until Tom and I are in bed tomorrow. Is it bad for the second groom to drink the night before his wedding?_

Twenty six years old, Harry had finally grown to a full height of five foot seven. His face still smooth, the only parts of him that looked older was the odd wrinkle under his eyes, and the worry lines in his forehead however most of that was due to wedding stress. The venue was perfect, an outdoor wedding on the edge of a beautiful lake, in the distance were low rolling hills and mountains that made the place picturesque and isolated. Several giant white canopies were set up, under each were rows of seating, as well as the catering and dining after the ceremony. Though it was still sunny, each canopy had a lantern ready to light up with dozens of sleeping fairies freshly caught for the ceremony.

Harry and Tom were in a private tent to the side, busy dressing for the wedding. Harry’s suit was a dark blue color with a black bowtie, while Tom simply dressed in all white. A sheet divided them, for while they both knew what the other was wearing for their wedding, Sirius insisted that it was bad luck and they at least needed to be separated. Looking through a small window, Harry noted, “The guests are starting to arrive.”

“About time too,” Tom said. “I wasn’t sure if I’ve set all the portkeys correctly.” The lake was such an isolated place that, normally, it would take muggles days of hiking through wilderness to find it, Harry liked that aspect and hoped that the _Daily Prophet_ wouldn’t find them. “Who is it?” Tom asked.

“Hermione and her parents,” Harry said, glancing through the window again. “Mr. Granger seemed to lose some weight.”

“Hmm… Harry make sure that we never get that boring when we grow old,” Tom said.

“Are you kidding?” Harry joked, “Boring is never an option with you or me.” Tom laughed and Harry couldn’t help but smile. The past twelve years since the graveyard really changed them, as though a heavy weight was finally lifted, and they were able to just be themselves. Together they’ve changed and talked, Harry glancing through the tent’s window and commentating on which guest just shown up, and what was generally happening.

The tent opened up some time later, and Sirius walked in, “Harry!” he exclaimed, looking at his godson, “you are looking so handsome. I know that James and Lily would be proud.” He pulled Harry in for a hug before looking past the sheet separating Tom and Harry. “You two could have at least used different tents,” he sighed, shaking his head lightly.

“Then how will I talk with my boy before the wedding?” Tom chuckled. “Harry, is everyone ready?”

“Almost,” Sirius answered for Harry. “You should have seen what happened, somehow Skeeter found out about this and tried to sneak in. Not that I blame her, _the_ Harry Potter’s wedding? And with a guest list varying from the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the head of the Auror’s department to convicted criminals? Talk about the perfect mixture for gossip.”

“Oh that reminds me, Viktor sent us another letter,” Harry said, looking at the sheet. “He’s sorry that he can’t get to the wedding, however his team is doing very well this past season.”

“That’s nice,” Tom said, “We should visit him one day… and his many… partners.”

Sirius made a disapproving face but said nothing.

“You know, you still haven’t told me about the deal you and him made,” Harry hummed.

“Is there a reason?” Tom asked. “It was just a deal to type up loose ends. Nothing very important.”

“I guess,” Harry shrugged.

“Well, at least promise me that you two will not walk down together,” Sirius said.

“Of course not,” Tom said, “I’m just about ready, I’m going out to greet the guests and get in position, after that Harry will come out—”

“On my arm,” Sirius interjected.

“Yes Sirius, you will be walking with Harry,” Tom said, amused. “We do the ceremony, Harry and say our vows and ‘I dos,’ kiss, and before we know it we can finally relax.”

“It all sounds so simple when you say it that way,” Sirius said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “How does he do that?”

“Just his gift,” Harry smiled. “Who else still needs to arrive?” he asked.

“The Diggorys, George and Cedric, just arrived, as well as Cedric’s parents,” Sirius said, “So all that’s left is Remus.”

“Great, tell us when they get here please?” Harry smiled. Sirius nodded and left. Harry watched Sirius through the window before turning to the sheet separating him and Tom and pushed it eagerly to the side. Tom chuckled and pulled Harry in for a long, loving kiss, both men holding each other close, Harry resting his head under Tom’s chin. “God I’m tired,” Harry complained.

“Me too, but think about it love, soon we’ll be husbands, and after we stuff ourselves with food and celebrate… we can have our real celebration,” Tom chuckled.

“Ohh? What do you have in mind?” Harry asked.

“I’m not telling,” Tom said. He kissed Harry’s forehead and patted his shoulders, “Come on, it’s almost time and I have to greet everyone.”

“Alright,” Harry smiled. They shared one last kiss before Tom left the tent. Harry watched him through the window and sighed, stretching as he gave out a yawn.

“Bored on your wedding day, Harry?”

“Shut up Blaise,” Harry said, turning around to see his friend. “I was up till four making sure everything’s perfect.”

“I’m sure it will be,” Blaise said. He hugged his friend and took a step back, “My you look gorgeous Harry,” he said.

“So, do you,” Harry smiled, indicating to Blaise’s simple black suit.

“Thanks, so what was the problem with last night?” Blaise asked.

“Seating,” Harry said. “I know that you and Ron wanted to sit with Draco, however the Malfoys would rather be damned than be near the Weasleys, Diggorys, and especially the Lovegoods.”

“So, what did you do?” Blaise asked.

“They’re sitting with your mother and a few other older witches and wizards, hope you don’t mind,” Harry said.

“It’s fine, my mother loves talking with Mrs. Malfoy,” Blaise shrugged. “Which reminds me, have you heard about what happened with Draco and Parkinson?”

“Please tell me they didn’t—”

“God no,” Blaise laughed. “Parkinson heard about your wedding and begged Draco to take her as a date. She apparently annoyed him so much that he yelled at her public, and I quote, ‘Shut up you annoying dog I’m taking Granger not you!’”

“No!” Harry gasped.

“Yeah!”

“You’re kidding—him and Hermione?” Harry gasped.

“Him and Hermione,” Blaise smirked.

“Lucius must have loved that,” Harry said.

“Draco told me that he didn’t talk to him for a week,” Blaise said. Harry laughed and looked out the window for the young Malfoy. He was sitting in his seat and Harry gasped as every now and again he and Hermione would share secret looks. “Oh, this is brilliant,” Harry grinned.

“Yeah,” Blaise nodded. “Anyway, I just came in to say congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled. “Hopefully the next one will be you and Ron,” Harry grinned. Blaise blushed but gave a big smile at his friend. They hugged and Blaise left. A couple minutes later, Sirius walked in, standing upright and looking rather sharp. “Ready Harry?” he asked.

“I am,” Harry nodded. Taking a deep breath, he took Sirius’ arm and leaving his worries and nervousness behind, walk out and into the aisle as a soft harmony began. The guests all rose, and Harry saw Tom standing there at the end, his face beaming with happiness, his white suit contracting all the deeds that they had to commit to get to his point. Smiling to himself, Harry looked up at Sirius and nodded. Thoughts of their wrongdoings, their trials and tribulations came and went in Harry’s mind, his heart fluttered over the guilt, the tiredness, the doubt, and left nothing but the purest of all emotions. Full of happiness, affection, love, and many other feelings Harry never thought possible when he first became aware of his otherness, Harry Potter walked down the aisle, ready to live his life, to see the new trials that adulthood will bring, and to see what fate has in store for him, all with his loving husband by his side.

THE END


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